


Cause & Effect

by Avaaricious



Series: Fixed Points [2]
Category: Captain America (Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Amputee Bucky Barnes, Bisexual Bucky Barnes, Bisexual Steve Rogers, Blood, Body Horror, Bucky Barnes Is a Good Bro, Bucky Barnes is an amazing Sergeant, Bucky and Steve didn't grow up together, F/M, Friends With Benefits, Grief/Mourning, Heavy Angst, Howling Commandos - Freeform, Hurt Bucky Barnes, Implied/Referenced Character Death, M/M, Mild Gore, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Relationship Status: It's Complicated, Steve Rogers Feels, Unresolved Romantic Tension, What-If, World War II
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-23
Updated: 2017-05-06
Packaged: 2018-07-16 20:14:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 25,810
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7283149
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Avaaricious/pseuds/Avaaricious
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When Bucky falls from the train in the Alps, Steve will do whatever it takes to mount a rescue mission, consequences be damned. </p><p>One possible outcome continued from my fic <a href="http://archiveofourown.org/works/6395947">P.O.W.</a></p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [P.O.W.](https://archiveofourown.org/works/6395947) by [Avaaricious](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Avaaricious/pseuds/Avaaricious). 



> In the wonderful comments I received from P.O.W., two stuck out in my mind, as they ended up lighting little fires in my head (and under my ass) to continue this story. This is the first!
> 
> I would definitely recommend you read P.O.W. before this. In case you don't, the TL;DR version is: Steve didn't know Bucky before he rescued Bucky off the table in the factory. Over the course of the march back to Italy, Steve discovers Bucky was experimented on in an attempt to recreate the serum. 
> 
> This particular tangent was inspired by ao3 user Maskelyne (i cannot link to your profile, I'm sorry!), who wondered if Steve, knowing that about Bucky, would maybe figure he might've survived the fall? The answer, apparently, is yes. 
> 
> So thank you! AND CURSE YOU. 
> 
> None of this shit would EVER be possible without Sarah looking over everything. She always prods me to make things hurt more. So blame her, too. Thank you, Slammie, you are a dead-set rock star. 
> 
> I feel like some little things slipped through my grasp, so if you happen to find any errors, please don't hesitate to let me know. 
> 
> There's discussion of Bucky's severed arm, hence the body horror/mild gore tags. I think it's very mild, but I put it there to err on the side of caution.

**NOW**

 

Steve reaches out, stretching as far as he can along the twisted and broken railing. Bucky's eyes are wide, and fixed on him, his hands scrabbling at the metal.

 

"Hold on, Buck," Steve calls out, the wind whipping by so fast it makes his eyes water and his face sting.

 

_Hold on, hold on, hold on--_

 

He's so near. If he can just get a _little_ closer to the railing, he can grab Bucky and--

 

There's a sound of metal bending; groaning in complaint, before a sharp _snap_ of a break.

 

The break happens in front of Bucky's hands.

 

"Bucky, _no_!"

 

Steve looks into Bucky's face, wide-eyed with shock as he tumbles back. All of Steve's efforts are useless.

 

And no matter how loud the train is, how fast they're going, it doesn't muffle the scream.

 

 

**THEN**

 

The seeds of the Howling Commandos unit first start to sprout in a private gathering in the mess tent of the Allied Italian camp. It was less than three hours since the completion of their thirty-five mile trek through enemy territory from Kreischberg in the Austrian Alps, to the SSR stronghold in northern Italy, somewhere south of Azzano.

 

Dugan, Falsworth, Dernier, Morita, Jones and Barnes all agree to be part of a specialised squad led by Steve if Steve can convince Colonel Phillips to get them transferred from their original units.

 

Despite Phillips' insistence that he can make a squad for Steve, Steve is adamant he knows just the men for the job. As it turns out, with the information Steve and the others bring back from the Factory about HYDRA's weapons, the Allies are worried enough that they pull any and all strings to make it happen. Steve gets an official field commission to the rank of 'Captain', and he is ready to go.

 

In this time, Bucky has been unusually serious. Even during the trek back from Austria, when Steve could break through the wary exterior, there were moments of good humour, signs of a kindred spirit from Brooklyn.

 

In the entire time in London, Bucky has looked tense, and nervous, at a loose end. With Tully on the receiving end of treatment, and separated from his division, in between the debriefings, Bucky's got nothing but time to think. And Steve knows how sometimes that can be detrimental.

 

Steve wonders if Bucky's still worried about the SSR finding out about what Zola did to him, and consequently sending him away to some Stark laboratory to be poked and prodded. He wishes he could have even a few minutes alone with Bucky to reassure him, but Phillips has him poring over maps and back to back interviews.

 

He wishes he could have a few minutes alone with him for _other_ reasons, too. Reasons they haven't had a chance to talk about since they entered the mess hall in Italy.

 

But finally, there is a break in the gloomy horizon. Dugan is the one who coins the term _Howling Commandos_ , and it suits them, seeing as they can be impressively loud.

 

Particularly in a bar situation.

 

Steve walks into the English pub to break the good news to his men; they are all officially reassigned to the SSR elite combat unit codename: _Howling Commandos._ Dugan insists that he open a tab, and Steve is only too happy to oblige.

 

Bucky sits at the bar, nursing whiskey. He looks tired, but a little more relaxed than he as all week, now that the debriefing ordeal is officially over. In all that time, it doesn't seem Bucky's incarceration has come up as a subject that was investigated terribly thoroughly, and the men all unanimously agreed it wouldn't be discussed.

 

Steve studies the sharp angle of his jaw, the line of his cheekbone. The way that Bucky's throat moves when he tips his head to throw back the whiskey.

 

He studies, and he inexplicably _wants_.

 

"Loud idiots," Bucky offers, as Steve slips into the stool next to him. He inclines his head towards the newly-formed _Commandos_ , although his expression is a shade too fond to be cutting.

 

"I need to talk to you," Steve says, ordering a whiskey from the bar as well.

 

Bucky arches one eyebrow and taps next to his glass for a refill. "What about, Cap?"

 

The bartender comes over with a glass for Steve, filling it and Bucky's to the top.

 

Steve's large fingers play at the edges of his whiskey glass. "I need a second in command. Someone to assist with strategy, help me plan, keep the men in line. I'd like that to be you."

 

Bucky looks surprised. "I thought you'd ask Dum Dum," he admits.

 

Steve shakes his head. "Dum Dum is great, but I've spent more time with you. I've seen you work. You're damned good at your job, and you're damned good at managing the men. You're the clear choice, and I trust you."

 

Bucky stares at him blankly for a few moments, before the cocky curve of his lip that has so fascinated Steve since they met, makes an appearance. Steve takes it as an encouraging sign. "So, are you ready to follow _Captain America_ into the jaws of death?" Steve asks, knowing it's ridiculously cheesy.

 

"Hell, no," Bucky says fiercely. "That mouthy guy who hauled my ass out of Austria. Steve Rogers?" He inclines his head to the side and makes eye contact with Steve, clinking their whiskey glasses together. "I'm following him."

 

It's the first, but not the last, time that Steve comes to appreciate Bucky seeing the difference between _Captain America_ and _Steve Rogers._

 

Bucky downs his whiskey before sharp elbow digs into Steve's arm. "You're keeping the outfit, though, right?"

 

And there's something in Bucky's tone that makes Steve glance at him, a callback to stubble against his cheek and lips softer than they look.

 

There's a spark in Bucky's eyes that hasn't been there in days. Something that makes Steve eminently glad he's already sitting down, because otherwise it would make his knees buckle.

 

"You know what?" Steve answers, his voice sounding low and foreign even to his own ears, "It's kinda growing on me."

 

Bucky smiles with all of his teeth, before reaching over to steal Steve's whiskey glass. Their fingers brush for just a moment, before Bucky swallows Steve's drink, treating Steve to a close-up look of that supple throat in action. He places the glass back in front of Steve, and wipes his hand with the back of his mouth, corner of his lips turning up.

 

There is a moment in time where they lock eyes, and Steve feels his heart speed up, mouth go dry. They are in a crowded room, but the music stops and noise seems to fall away as he stares at Bucky.

 

It takes a few moments to realise that it's not a figment of his imagination, it's _actually happening_. Because in that moment, Peggy walks into the pub, and the ambient noise drops as she does. Like a spell being broken, Steve's gaze snaps to her and he pushes himself up out of his stool, dimly aware Bucky does the same.

 

He's never seen Peggy in anything but her various military uniforms. To see her now, in a red so vivid his eyes could never have understood the shade before being corrected by the serum... she is a vision of beauty in the brown and grey dreariness of London.

 

"Captain," she greets.

 

"Agent Carter," he manages calmly.

 

"Ma'am," Bucky says from somewhere beside Steve.

 

Her eyes are glowing in the dim light. "Howard has some equipment for you to try. Tomorrow morning."

 

"Sounds good," Steve says. He watches her dark eyebrows quirk towards the rest of his team.

 

"I see your top squad is prepping for duty," she comments, her words taking on a sardonic edge.

 

"You don't like music?" Bucky prompts from his left, that voice touched with a drawl straight from the neighbourhoods of Brooklyn. It gets warmth pooling in his belly immediately.

 

"I do, actually," Peggy answers Bucky, but her eyes never leave Steve's face. "I might even, when this is all over... go dancing."

 

Steve remembers that conversation in a draughty cab in Brooklyn. Remembers Peggy looking at him like he was something when he was a slip of nothing. Peggy was the only person -- apart from Dr Erskine -- that saw him as more. That hadn't changed now he was big and strong and healthy.

 

"Then what are we waiting for?" Bucky's voice disturbs his musings again.

 

"The right partner." Steve's words come back to him, but said by Peggy they take on new significance. Her eyes sparkle, red, _red_ lips curve ever so slightly, and Steve loses his breath.

 

They exchange a few more words, and Peggy breezes out as smoothly as she came in, like a dream. Steve watches her go, and he sees Bucky gesture for two whiskey refills from the corner of his eye. His skin is buzzing, hair standing up at the back of his neck. It feels like a storm is coming, and static electricity fills the air.

 

Steve grasps clumsily for the whiskey, and Bucky clinks their glasses together.

 

"You're welcome," he says, before downing his shot.

 

"What?" Steve asks, unsure of what Bucky's getting at.

 

He nods towards the retreating figure of Peggy. "Your agent, what's her name? Carter?" He gives her a nod. "You were about to cock that up. You're _welcome._ "

 

Steve shakes himself out of his stupor and finally gets to throw back his whiskey. It burns all the way down his throat. He looks at Bucky, and he feels fire in his gut, but it's not from the alcohol.

 

"For you to say 'you're welcome'," Steve says slowly, throat gruff from the burn of the spirit, "I would have to 'thank you' first," Steve says, and Bucky arches one brow at the tone.

 

"Really?" Bucky taps a finger against his lips. "And how would _you_ say 'thank you', Steve?"

 

Steve doesn't really know what he's doing, he doesn't know where they're going to go, but Bucky seems to have an idea. They push away from the bar at the same time, and when the bartender looks for payment, Bucky points to Steve. "Put 'em on his tab." Steve nods stiffly, and they exit the pub.

 

Somewhere outside and in the dark, pushing Bucky up against the grimy brick alley wall as they kiss each other, Steve wonders whether he's making a wise decision. Bucky tastes like smoke and whiskey, and Steve, for a few moments, forgets everything else.

 

**NOW**

 

When Steve and Gabe return from their mission, Steve wastes no time in storming into Phillips' war room. News had travelled ahead, courtesy of Jones, of the success of Zola's capture, but also what it has cost them.

 

The low murmur of young SSR operatives milling around, putting pins in maps and shuffling paperwork, falls silent.

 

"I need a vehicle, and men. I'm mounting a rescue."

 

Phillips looks up at him, his face as stony as ever. If he dropped a pin right now, it would sound like a bell.

 

"I need the room," Phillips says in a calm voice, and Steve has never seen the war room clear out so quickly in his life.

 

When they're alone, Phillips looks back down at the papers of communication he had been studying.

 

"You were travelling on a train going fifty or more miles an hour through some of the harshest and un-navigated terrain in the European Theater, and you want to take resources to go find one man." The question comes out like a statement.

 

Steve knows it's a hard-sell, but then so were the Howling Commandos to begin with. "I know it sounds crazy, sir--"

 

"Good, I'm glad we agree on something," Phillips interrupts, shuffling his papers deliberately.

 

"I know the coordinates where we boarded the train, and the distance travelled before we- before _I_ \-- lost him. When he fell--" Steve pauses for a moment, to make sure he can deliver the information with as much confidence as he can muster, "--I took note of certain unique formations in the mountains, and believe he fell crossing Brenner Pass, on the border. I can get back there."

 

Phillips stares at him, his mouth pulled tight. "Son, that's just not possible."

 

Steve's fist balls and he punches the table. He doesn't put all his strength behind it, and it's solid oak, so the surface doesn't break, or even crack. The noise, however, reverberates throughout the silent room. "I am a science experiment," he begins, trying not to sound bitter, "who parachuted into enemy territory and led over one hundred men out of Nazi-occupied Austria on my own. I've been pushing HYDRA back for two years... and you're telling me this isn't possible?"

 

Phillips sighs. "It's possible," he capitulates, "just not likely. Look--" he holds up a hand to stop Steve from interrupting. "I understand Barnes was important to your team. A pain in the ass, as well, but a fine soldier."

 

Bucky being mentioned in past tense sends a fiery stab of pain into Steve's gut, and it shows on his face. Phillips pauses briefly before he continues.

 

"At another juncture, maybe I would be crazy enough to green-light this -- frankly, preposterous -- mission because of your track record. However--" Phillips sighs deeply. "We have Zola. I'm going to go question the little bastard now. And I _don't_ know what he's going to tell us, but Schmidt's plans are coming to a head even as we speak. They're undoubtedly time sensitive."

 

"So what are you saying?" Steve asks, teeth grinding in his jaw.

 

Phillips' eyes seem almost apologetic. "I'm saying that I'm not going to bench our greatest hitter at the bottom of the ninth, with bases loaded."

 

Steve turns on his heels and stalks out of the room, kicking a chair that's in his way. Its legs shatter, showering the ground in wooden splinters.

 

 

**THEN**

 

No matter what happens between Steve and Bucky -- and sometimes quite a bit does happen between them -- they are always, _always_ , first and foremost, soldiers.

 

Steve couldn't have picked a better second in command. Bucky is resourceful and skilled, nearly always by his side to take orders, or on his six, covering them all.

 

Out of the Commandos, Steve is the only one with no prior battle experience, and despite his natural talent, after their first few operations, it is noticed. It becomes clear to him very early on that for their team to work, he needs to trust them, and they need to trust him in return.

 

So he gathers the Commandos together, and tells them about the serum, Erskine, and HYDRA, and about the truth of his prior 'service'. He's met with some incredulous looks to begin with, but in their short association, they've already seen him do amazing things. He earns their respect by being up-front.

 

Steve side-eyes Bucky during the conversation, who stays silent during the entire explanation. Monty turns to Bucky after the revelations, a question in his voice. "You knew about this already, Sergeant?"

 

"Cap told me on the way out of Austria," Bucky says, and that's all he offers by way of explanation.

 

The fact that someone who is essentially, a novice, is leading them doesn't end up bothering his men. " _All_ of us were inexperienced before we got here, Cap. You can't teach a man what to expect from war," Dugan says, "If you could, none of us woulda ever enlisted."

 

Dugan is proven right, so many times over. But Steve is a very fast learner, and he has a very good teacher.

 

If nothing else, being with the Commandos has only strengthened his thoughts that he wants to be a soldier like Bucky.

 

He _looks after_ everyone: Makes sure Morita takes a break from listening to HYDRA radio frequencies for hours on end. Tells Dugan when he's eating too much, and Gabe when he's not eating enough. Always spares a cigarette for Dernier, keeps Monty talking about places he's travelled so he doesn't die of boredom. He is Steve's biggest backup, and fiercest foil.

 

Bucky takes all things into consideration, and he's not afraid to fight Steve when he thinks Steve is making a bad call. Bucky's smart; he learns quickly to take their spirited debates into private. In a calmer environment he can present his arguments, coming at Steve from the side, not the front. Traditionally, anyone who has approached Steve head-on has been met with resistance, sometimes just to be contrary. Bucky almost always finds a way to sidestep that, getting Steve to adjust and make small compromises with the benefit of his experience. His advice on operations is rarely ever unsound, and more often than not, they can present a united front to the Commandos and the SSR.

 

But Steve trusts Bucky, and that trust has been earnt in fire and blood over and over again.

 

Steve is also a stubborn asshole.

 

Sometimes he argues because he believes in what he's saying, and sometimes he argues just to see Bucky arc up, fire in his eyes and gravel in his voice. The air crackles between them like electricity, and Steve wonders what it's like to be struck by lightning.

 

They never have much time together, him and Bucky. Stolen moments, mostly. Kissing in the night, after the rest of the camp has gone to sleep, hands shoved hastily down each other's trousers in some French farmer's barn.

 

But Bucky is a constant presence at Steve's side. He's leaning over the same map spread out on a jeep, discussing their next movements. He is up high, watching their backs through a scope, protecting them from ambush. He is the last one to bunk down, and the first one up in the morning, cleaning his rifle with a cigarette dangling out of his mouth. He is the one to haul a stinking drunk Dum Dum out of the pub at night and make sure he doesn't get in trouble with the locals. He bunks down with Steve on ops, a warm and solid presence at his back, a pair of soft lips in the dark.

 

Steve might be the head of the Howling Commandos, but Bucky is their beating _heart_.

 

**NOW**

Steve pulls the Commandos and Peggy together into a small briefing room, met with red eyes and sombre faces.

 

"I'm going to get him back," Steve announces, to varying responses; sadness, disbelief, pity.  
  


Morita is first to break the silence. "Cap, that's impossible."

 

"It's not," Steve argues. "I know where he fell. I know where we lost him. If we can just get there in time, I _know_ I can--"

 

Dernier shakes his head and looks down, sadly. Jones wipes his eye.

 

"Steve--" Dugan begins, and Steve can't remember a time where the Corporal has ever used his Christian name. "--Steve, he fell hundreds of feet in freezing temperatures. If he didn't get dashed to pieces on the rocks..." he swallows, and Steve wills him to stop talking. "What makes you think that there's anything left to find?"

 

Steve swallows the bile that's rising in his gorge. "He didn't fall on rocks, we were at a clearing. And there's a chance he could be alive, a better than average chance."

 

"What makes you think that he could've survived?" Peggy asks, and he's grateful that, while probably sceptical, she doesn't immediately shut him down.

 

There's no way Steve is going to get any support from his men unless he tells the truth.

 

Muttering a sincere apology to Bucky, he breaks the confidence he's kept for two years, the one he swore he'd never tell a soul about.

 

"Zola," he says, and with a word he has everyone's undivided attention. "Zola experimented on Bucky, at the factory." He turns towards Peggy. "He was trying to recreate Erskine's formula, and he got close."

 

Peggy's spine stiffens. "Steve, you should've told us."

 

"And what, have the SSR use him as a lab rat, like they did me? No. What I went through is a cakewalk compared to what Zola put him through."

 

"That should have been the _first_ thing either of you mentioned in the debrief in '43--"

 

"The _first_ thing the SSR did to him when they found out he'd been interned at _all_ was strap him to a table and sedate him," Steve spits. "I was _not_ going to be complicit in that."

 

Peggy is so much better than him, she doesn't get angry. She lets him take out his resentment on her, even though she is so very undeserving of it.

 

Steve numbers things off on his fingers. "He didn't need as much sleep, he would heal faster... remember that knife he took to the shoulder in January?"

 

Monty nods slowly. "By all rights, he should've lost some mobility in his right arm."

 

"Or the pneumonia and the broken ribs in Austria," Steve presses. "Good as new in a couple of weeks." He turns to Jones. "What about when the jeep fell off its jack and pinned Dernier in Le Mans, whilst Monty and I were out on recon? You told me nobody could move it, and somehow, Bucky shifted it off him."

 

"Adrenalin," Dugan said, but his tone isn't confident. Not like it was.

 

" _No_. He was stronger, faster, more accurate." Steve exhales. "And there's every chance he could be alive."

 

Steve squeezes his eyes shut for a moment, before he opens them and looks each and every one of the remaining Howling Commandos and Peggy in the eye. "He saved us and he saved us and he _saved_ us. I can repay the favour, but I can't do it alone. There's a chance, and I have to take it. But it has to be now, or there's no point." He looks at his men pleadingly. "I can't do it without you, and we owe him. We _all_ owe him."

 

Silence falls. It's heavy, and fraught with electricity, before it is broken.

 

"I'm in," Jones says, to the surprise of those around him. Steve shakily breathes out. "He put his ass on the line for me too many times not to try."

 

" _Oui,_ " Dernier agrees, raising his hand in agreement.

 

One by one, each of the Commandos throws their hats into the ring, and Steve is more grateful than he can say.

 

Peggy's voice cuts through his brain. "This is all very touching, but you can't _all_ go. Colonel Phillips would notice immediately."

 

Steve straightens his back. She hasn't said she'll go along with the plan, but nor has she shot it straight to hell, and that's about as much as he can hope for right now. Steve is going to go out on a limb and talk as though she's already agreed to participate. "You're right, Agent," he says. "That's why Dum Dum and Jim are going to stay with you."

 

Dugan and Morita both begin to protest, but Steve shushes them. "I need you _here_. Agent Carter can't come, she'll be expected to be by Phillips at all times. Dum Dum will be the best diversion for our absence that I can think of, nobody can double-talk like he can."

 

"Thanks, I think," Dugan says wryly.

 

Steve turns to Morita. "Jim, with Gabe coming with me, you're the only one that has the frequency to his equipment. I need you there so we can radio you our position, and for you to keep us updated on everyone's whereabouts, and the situation back here."

 

"Got it," Morita nods.

 

"Jacques, I need explosives, and I need a lot of them. We might need to blast paths through the mountains."

 

" _Oui oui,_ " Dernier agrees.

 

"Gabe, get your equipment, Monty, I'll need maps from the war room. We leave in three hours." He casts his eye over everyone. "You have your orders."

 

One by one, the Commandos file out of the briefing room with grim determination, all with jobs to do. Steve is left alone with Peggy.

 

They are silent for a long moment, just looking at each other. Peggy's eyes have never gazed upon him with pity, even when he was small and sickly. Now is the closest he's ever been to seeing that in her eyes.

 

"I need for you to believe in me, Peggy," Steve says fervently.

 

Her professional exterior slowly drops, and he's left standing in front of the woman he cares so very much about. She steps towards him.

 

"I do. But Steve... you _must_ have some inclination as to how farfetched your story sounds."

 

"I know, I _know_. But... I have to do this. He's..." Steve shrugs helplessly, "he's the best friend I've ever had."

 

Peggy stares at him, and he imagines that she can see right through his flesh and bone exterior, into his soul. She drops her chin to her chest, a telltale finger going to her cheek. "I'll do my best with Phillips. You know he'll find out you're missing eventually."

 

Steve tentatively puts his hands around Peggy's upper arms. "I know. But by the time he figures that, I'm hoping to be halfway back with Buck in tow. I've left you the best weaver of bull-shit that I know."

 

Peggy stutters out a laugh and when she looks up, Steve can barely tell she's upset at all, save for the tiny smear of black makeup around her eyes.

 

When she looks at him this time, there is no trace of pity; all he sees is strength and beauty and love.

 

Steve leans forward, and touches his lips to hers. Hers move softly under his mouth, and he can taste the lipstick she wears, and can smell the perfume she dabs behind her ears that is so hard to come by. He moves forward, slotting his mouth over hers, and she matches him, his equal and opposite. They've shared very small kisses in the past -- usually interrupted by someone or something -- but this is different. This is the real thing.

 

Fire burns in Steve's heart. It's not better or worse than kissing Bucky, just different. Less harsh, but still passionate. She is more giving than he is, soft where Bucky is hard. Her hands reach up to cup his face, and Steve wants nothing more than to fall into her soft body further, to forget and take comfort... but kissing Peggy also fills him with strength, with belief. His heart swells so large in his chest he feels it might burst.

 

Steve pulls away, palms sweaty on her uniform jacket. Peggy's hand goes to her lips, touching the corners of her mouth to make sure her lipstick hasn't smeared. She looks up at him, hair wavy and eyes bright, and brushes a thumb across his bottom lip.

 

"Go get him," she says, not a waver in her voice.

 

Steve can't say goodbye to Peggy Carter, because it might be a fool's errand, but he tells himself he's coming back.

 

He's fucking well _coming back_.

 

"I'll need a truck," he says to her instead.

 

"I'll get you one," Peggy promises.

 

"I know you will." He presses one last fierce kiss to her lips before leaving the briefing room.

 

He's got three hours.

 

 

**THEN**

Peggy and Bucky take some time to warm to one another. He thinks she's a little bit of an Ice Queen, she thinks he's a little bit of a lothario. But as Peggy becomes the direct SSR liaison to the Howling Commandos and they have more to do with one another, they end up seeing things in each other.

 

Bucky sees how brave she is, how she takes the disrespect and the jeers from some of the other soldiers with a mixture of tolerance and a closed fist. She never allows them to bring her down, despite facing it constantly. As Bucky turns around and says to Steve one day: "That woman is like Sisyphus rolling the boulder up the hill. No matter how many times it rolls back to the bottom, she starts pushing it up again."

 

And Peggy, in turn, sees how dedicated Bucky is. No matter how he sometimes tries to hide it with a laid-back air, she can't fault his dedication, his steadfast compassion to his men, his skills as a marksman and soldier, his unfailing loyalty. _And_ his ability -- much to Steve's chagrin -- to change Steve's mind.

 

In fact one she realises this, they become allies, more or less.

 

Steve isn't sure how he's meant to feel about this.

 

He catches them speaking from time to time outside a briefing room or in some muddy camp; a cigarette dangling from Bucky's lips, Peggy's arms folded across her chest, her expression one of quiet amusement. Whenever Steve joins them, Bucky's eyes twinkle and he excuses himself, patting Steve encouragingly on the shoulder. It seems that Bucky is Steve and Peggy's staunchest supporter, which sometimes strikes him as odd.

 

Steve asks him one night, as Bucky's shining his boots in their shared tent while in on an operation. Why is he always so encouraging, when they do what they do?

 

Bucky stops shining his boots for a moment, and it initially looks as though he's going to give Steve a sarcastic answer, but he doesn't. His lips press together and he pauses before speaking.

 

"Because that woman looks at you not like she sees all of this," he waves vaguely to the span of Steve's shoulders, "but like she sees all of _this_." He pokes Steve firmly in the chest, right above his heart. "Other dames don't do that. They get one gander at your rippling pectorals and swoon."

 

Steve's throat gets a little thick at that, because that's _exactly_ what it feels like to him, too. "You do, too," he blurts out. "At least, _I_ think you do. See me."

 

Bucky smiles wryly. "I'm also more than a little fucked in the head, so I don't know how much of a compliment that is." The admission is incredibly private, and Steve knows Bucky is only voicing it because they are alone, and there is a great deal of trust between them. With a shake of his head, Bucky starts shining his boots again. "Carter's your saner bet."

 

Steve winces a little. He wants to reassure him; there's nothing _wrong_ with Bucky. Or rather, his state of mind is perfectly understandable given what he's had to go through. That anyone would be glad to choose this or any _other_ version of Bucky.

 

But he can't find a way to put that into words, a way that Bucky would understand and not take offense to, so he stays silent.

 

In the Fall of '44, Peggy needs one of the Commandos to go undercover with her into Paris, to uproot double-agents working for HYDRA in the French Resistance. They are to replace a pair of young lovers whom the SSR have already captured, who are known by description, if not photographically.

 

Dugan and Dernier are too old; Morita and Jones are the wrong ethnicity; Falsworth doesn't speak French, and Steve is too recognisable. It leaves Bucky as the last -- but by no means, least -- resort.

 

Bucky is in the right age bracket, handsome and charming to a fault, speaks enough French to get by, and has developed quite the skill at covert ops. Going undercover is different again, but he welcomes the challenge, if only to escape the mud of Italy for a while.

 

"Besides," he says to Dum Dum as they sit around a campfire, "how mad would I have to be to pass up a free trip to Paris with a beautiful dame on my arm?"

 

Dum Dum guffaws in response, looking to Steve. "Careful your lady doesn't give you the brush off for Sergeant Smooth here, Cap."

 

Steve's eyes lock with Bucky's straight away. The stare frozen for one moment, before Bucky flutters long dark lashes down in a parody of shy, exhaling smoke from his cigarette. "Steve knows Agent Carter's only got eyes for him. I'm not much of an understudy."

 

"That's exactly what a wolf like you _would_ say," Dum Dum presses. "What about that little lady you left pining for you in Campobasso?"

 

Bucky shrugs it off, but Steve remembers him trading kisses and sweet words in the corner of a quiet tavern with a beautiful girl with flaming red hair and freckles on her nose. This is a completely different situation, though, and Steve wasn't even interested in that girl.

 

"That's different," Bucky insists, echoing Steve's thought aloud. "Carter'd be crazy lookin' at me when she's already caught Rogers' eye." He shrugs. "She's way too smart to settle for an NCO when she's got a Captain on her tail."

 

And it's not that at all. Once agan, any wom-- any ma-- any _one_ would be _lucky_ to have this fiercely brave man, this soldier. But he downplays his worth, sells himself short to make Steve look better. As though _Steve_ is some prize that Peggy is striving for, and he is somehow not worthy of her notice. Because he _is_ , and she _would_ be lucky to have him. Only... he doesn't _want_ her to want Bucky.

 

Steve's head starts to hurt.

 

Bucky turns in early that night, patting Steve on the shoulder as he passes. In the morning, he and Peggy leave.

 

They're gone for twelve days. Steve doesn't worry about them; they are both so incredibly adept at what they do, and he is coming to realise he finds competence exceptionally attractive. If anything happens to one, he knows the other will look after them.

 

But he does wonder. And... he misses them, in different ways.

 

Dum Dum, however, thinks the greatest joke is to needle Steve _constantly_ about the pair. It gets old quite quickly. They'll be sitting in camp at night, and he'll make mention of the fact that Bucky and Peggy are probably having dinner in some little restaurant with actual tablecloths, drinking wine. Or they're hiding out in some boarding house in a wardrobe while HYDRA agents storm in, pressed together in the dark. The remaining Commandos make a sport out of throwing their rations at Dugan when he starts up.

 

Thirteen days after they left, very late at night, Steve wakes in his tent to a lit lantern, and an exhausted-looking Bucky stripping off a mud-spattered woollen coat and dropping a canvas duffel. He sits up on his camp bed immediately, swinging his legs off the side.

 

"You both okay?" he asks, wiping his eyes.

 

"Yeah," Bucky says with a tired grin. "Mission accomplished, rat-bastard moles caught."

 

Bucky sits on the small chair by the tiny desk Steve is privileged to possess as befitting his rank, pulling the braces off his shoulders. Steve sits up and scoots forward, batting Bucky's tired hands away from his boots, unlacing them one by one before removing them.

 

"Tell me about it," Steve says, aching for information.

 

Bucky recaps their mission as he gets undressed; how they spent days wandering through occupied Paris waiting to make contact, playing young lovers. How they shared a room with the one bed -- only Peggy took the mattress, and Bucky slept in a chair. How she came close to drinking him under the table one night.

 

He throws his shirt and trousers on top of the woollen coat on the floor, slumping back in the chair wearing only a grimy singlet that was once white, and threadbare long johns. In the dim light, Steve automatically does a visual inspection of Bucky, noting his relatively healthy appearance, with no new injuries. Combined with Bucky's lazy drawl giving him intel, Steve's tension ebbs.

 

"And you know, because we couldn't do much else while we were waiting to make contact, she helped me pick out things for my sisters and my ma to send home. Just like I promised I would before I left." Bucky glows at this, the thought of his family sparking warmth in him from the inside out. "I never did get that proper furlough in Paris, but I can at least send the girls something nice home." His eyes crinkle at the corners, but wistfulness touches his smile.

 

Bucky misses his family, and Steve is almost jealous that there is no one in Brooklyn to miss him.

 

The only people that might are right here.

 

Steve gets off his cot to kneel in front of Bucky's chair, between splayed legs. His large palms brace themselves on Bucky's thighs, and he looks up into blue-grey eyes, almost midnight in the dim tent.

 

"Did you miss me?" Steve asks hoarsely, almost surprising himself at the question, but knowing he needs the answer desperately.

 

One of Bucky's eyebrows arches up. "Sure I did. Carter snores."

 

Steve's response is to dig his fingers into the meat of Bucky's thighs, producing a hiss that isn't exactly painful.

 

"I'm sure you'll find that out soon enough," Bucky adds, his voice suddenly dipping into a husky register, "the good Lord knows I dropped enough hints to her." Steve softens his grip and pushes up off his haunches so his lips are brushing Bucky's rough cheek.

 

"Did _you_ miss me?" he asks again, this time in a whisper. His hands slide further up Bucky's thighs, creeping closer to his hips.

 

Bucky rests one hand on Steve's shoulder, the other cups the side of his head. He always knows when to use a joke as an answer. Likewise, he always knows when a serious response is required.

 

"Since the factory," Bucky says, stopping so he can get his mouth around the difficult memories, "I never sleep more'n a few hours at night if you're not in the room. I never feel safe. Not really." The admission pinkens his cheeks. "So yeah, I missed you." He gives a charming little smile that makes Steve twitch with need. "Also, you're like a fucking furnace."

 

Steve only barely brushes his lips across Bucky's cheek before he sinks lower, fingers running across the hard line of Bucky's erection through his long johns. Desire rips through him like a wildfire. He hooks his fingers in the waistband, but stops before pulling them down.

 

"Anyone gonna come looking for you?" Steve asks.

 

"Na," Bucky smirks. "Told Phillips I was seeing my CO for a _thorough_ debriefing before catching some shut-eye."

 

"Well, you weren't wrong," Steve says, pulling the stretched waistband down and putting his mouth to good use.

 

They've gotten very good at being quiet. Bucky barely makes any sound as Steve brings him pleasure with his mouth and hands; low grunts and an occasional hiss, half a dozen 'fuck's, and one choked 'Steve--' at the end, spilling into Steve's mouth.

 

Steve spits to the side quickly, catching Bucky as he slumps exhaustedly in the chair. He readjusts Bucky's long johns and helps him into his cot. He knows Bucky is tired when the man doesn't object to being tucked in like a kid, or put up a fight that he's taking Steve's bed.

 

"Stay for a bit," Bucky says sleepily when he sees Steve get up.

 

"Yeah, okay. Just... tidying your messes," he says, and Bucky chuckles.

 

Steve picks up Bucky's clothes and puts them to the side, tucking his boots out of the way. He picks up Bucky's bag, looking in amusement where decidedly feminine silk sticks out from the opening.

 

"Hey, get outta my sisters' drawers," Bucky mumbles, and Steve can't help but laugh a little.

 

"Very nice, Buck," he says. "I'm sure they'll love it."

 

Bucky snorts and closes his eyes. "Shoulda seen me in this fancy Parisian store. _Me,_ a rough as anything gravel agitator, in a store full of ladies' underthings. There's Brooklyn smooth and then there's Paris smooth, and let me tell you, pal, the two ain't one and the same." Bucky yawns. "But there I was, being escorted around by a knock-out like Carter, who's asking me about my sisters and picking things up, but then still keeping cover and bein' all sweet on me."

 

The very image of it is laughter-worthy. Despite Bucky's protests to the contrary, they would make a good pair; both beautiful and clever and both so _very important_ to Steve.

 

Steve has begun to realise he feels for Peggy; moreso than the stupid infatuation that he immediately cultivated upon meeting her at Camp LeHigh. The deeper he feels for her, the less he knows what to do about it. They never seem to get any substantial time alone, and Steve still considers himself fairly inexperienced in matters of the heart.

 

Bucky's sleepy voice cuts into his thoughts. He gives an admiring little whistle. "You've got one hell of a woman there, Steve. If you let her slip through your fingers..." he shakes his head, like Steve is the biggest fool on the planet.

 

Steve's not imagining the newfound fondness and affection in his tone, and Dugan's petty needling suddenly comes back to reverberate in his head. He knows -- he _knows the answer_ \-- but can't help but ask it anyway.

 

"Bucky... nothing-- nothing _happened_ between you and Peggy... did it?"

 

It's probably just as well that he asks Bucky this when the man is far too exhausted to get offended by it. Maybe because of his incarceration, and the whispered stories that circulated by some of the rescued Allied troops, Bucky has a tendency to vehemently defend any question of his loyalty. With his fists.

 

Bucky's eyes creak open, and he grunts his displeasure, but that's all. "I might be a bit on the queer side, but I ain't a fink," he says.

 

And Steve knows it to be true. If he trusts anyone unequivocally, he trusts Bucky.

 

"You sure aren't," Steve says, sudden emotion making his throat tight. "You're my best friend."

 

Bucky smiles sleepily at that, his eyes properly falling shut. "Damn right I am," is the last thing he says, before sighing deeply.

 

Steve watches his breathing slow, the steady rise and fall of his chest soothing. Stretching his legs out, Steve crosses his arms and does his best to catch a little more shut-eye. There's not enough room on the cot for them both, but if his presence will make Bucky feel safe enough to sleep more than a few hours, this is where he's going to be.

 

**NOW**

True to her word, Peggy is able to not only commandeer a jeep, but have it stocked with supplies. Dernier has managed to get his hands on a decent amount of explosives and charges, Monty a few Thompsons, Jones packs the radio to be able to keep in touch.

 

Peggy has seen fit to find a decently-stocked med kit and blankets as well, and Steve is incredibly grateful. If-- _When_ they find Bucky, they don't know what kind of condition he'll be in, but undoubtedly, he'll be cold.

 

It is easier than expected, sneaking out of the base. With the capture of Zola, there is so much activity it has become almost simple to slip out in the commotion. Steve makes sure to sit in the back, so Captain America leaving by jeep isn't noted by any of the perimeter guards.

 

While Jones drives, exchanging quiet conversations in French with Dernier, Falsworth and Steve hunker down in the back, poring over maps. Steve has done the calculations based on where they zip-lined onto the train, and Monty helps plot a ground-based path to the area he suspects Bucky would've landed.

 

There are so many variables like how fast the train was going and how far they'd travelled... then there's the logistics of getting to that location via ground; and they might have to take the long way around to get to the area based on rocky obstructions that are too dense to blast through.

 

Finally, if he's lying injured and in the cold, anything could happen. Hypothermia, wolves, bleeding out from injuries... And they're just the first three that spring to mind.

 

Bucky has been gone for nearly twenty-four hours.

 

The mountains play havoc with radio signals, but at the times that Jones can make contact, it seems the SSR is circling to make a move on Schmidt's base. The fact that the base is in the Bavarian Alps, a few hours north of where they are, is frustrating. Knowing they're so close and yet unable to help... Steve winces. He should be there for that, and hopes they can hold off the attack just a little longer.

 

The terrain begins to look more familiar to Steve. And though it's different at ground level, Monty has, to the best of his ability, plotted a decent route to Bucky's approximate drop zone, which Steve believes he has identified as Brenner Pass, on the border of Italy and Austria.

 

Explosives are required at some junctures to clear a path, and this is where Dernier's skills are put to the very best use. He uses them sparingly, because they are in open territory and don't know who could be attracted by the sound of a blast. His precision is almost surgical, and they are able to move through the obstructions with ease. Steve feels deep pride in the skills of his team, knowing he has the right men for the right job.

 

Steve stops their jeep in a particular clearing. Jones looks at him questioningly, but Steve doesn't say anything, save to get out. He looks up, seeing the train track high above. He tries to imagine what his surroundings would appear like, if they were being seen from that height, rather than the very bottom. According to the map, they have arrived at Brenner's Pass.

 

Something rings in Steve's head, like a bell or a chime.

 

"This is it," he breathes, breath misting in front of him, eyes searching everywhere. He taps the hood of the Jeep, and Monty, Jones and Dernier all get out, pulling their coats around them tighter.

 

"Captain?" Monty questions.

 

"This is the place. Bucky fell here somewhere."

 

"You sure?" Jones asks, squinting at their surroundings.

 

"Sure as I can be." Steve beckons them closer, rubbing his gloved hands together. "We'll do a quadrant search; Four of us, four zones." He points to a dead tree, sprouting pathetically from a rocky outcrop. "That's the centre mark. Jones, Take north-west of that mark, Monty, north-east. I'll take south-west, and Dernier, you take south-east."

 

"What are we looking for?" Monty asks, teeth gritted to keep from chattering.

 

"Any evidence of an impact, or human travel. Broken branches, blood, tracks. There's been little to no snowfall in the past seventy-two hours, and if Bucky regained consciousness or moved, we might be able to find him. You see anything, you whistle."

 

The Commandos get to work immediately. It's a tough job, but the cold keeps them constantly moving. Steve scours the south-west quadrant with an intense focus. He's looking for _anything_ that might indicate some kind of fall, or tracks.

 

He doesn't know if he'll find anything, but he has to _try_.

 

In the end, Steve isn't the one to send up the piercing whistle; it's Dernier. At the sound, Steve takes off at a run, along with Jones and Monty.

 

Dernier points excitedly to a patch in the snow. From further away it had looked like stones, only now, closer, the dark patch is revealed to be blood. Steve's breath is caught in his throat as Monty kneels down by it, gingerly touching it with his finger.

 

Steve has seen death now; he's no stranger to it. Knowing that this is likely Bucky's blood... it's hard to take in. But Steve forces himself into the role as Captain, forces himself to take this logically. Standing straighter, Steve pushes his shoulders back.

 

His eyes scan the patch feverishly. "It's... it's not enough for him to have bled out," Steve states. "This looks like maybe... three pints?"

 

Jones winces. "That's still not good."

 

"Not good, but not enough to kill him. If he'd bled out, he'd be _here_ ," Steve states.

 

Dernier says something in French, and Steve quirks his brows. He didn't catch it all, but what he did catch wasn't pleasant. Jones translates for Monty. "He said 'what about wild beasts?'"

 

Steve swallows the dryness in his throat. "If he'd been taken by animals, there would be evidence. They don't exactly have great table manners," he argues back, and looks to Monty.

 

James Falsworth is infuriatingly realistic when it comes to passing opinion. He will give an unpopular one with no thought to how it might sound, because that's the correct one to give. He doesn't ever offer false hope, and Steve has known that from their very first meeting. He will offer Steve the truth, whether he wants to hear it or not.

 

"The Captain is correct," Monty says, and Steve internally slumps in relief. "Wild animals would leave evidence, or parts behind. There isn't enough blood to indicate the fall killed him, otherwise he'd be here." He points to furrows in the snow beside the patch. "He may have crawled away." They could've been made by someone crawling. It's not as though Bucky would have full mobility after such a fall, but perhaps he was able to get to cover?

 

"Or been dragged," Jones intones pointing further out into the snow, which Steve investigates. There are lots of scrape marks and furrows, as though there's been lots of movement, but it's not until a few steps out that Steve sees them.

 

Boot prints, at least two sets. Too large to be Bucky's. Steve swallows an anxious lump in his throat.

 

Even with a serum, it's unlikely that Bucky could just crawl away from a fall from such height. If he's not here, dead _or_ alive, he was rescued, which means he could be safe... or taken.

 

But... taken by _whom?_

 

" _Capitan!_ "

 

Steve's head snaps to Dernier, who has wandered off to the side towards a copse of trees. He makes his way over, and the first thing that catches his eye is a familiar shade of blue.

 

Steve doesn't throw up; he's been at war too long now. But the gorge does rise in his throat.

 

Flecks of blood spatter the dull gold of the wing patch, above which the sleeve is torn and bloody. Steve looks away from the coagulating mess and follows the line of the blue fabric down, to see slender fingers turned grey.

 

Steve knows those fingers. They would flatten out a map on the hood of a jeep, touch him on the shoulder to bid him goodnight, stroke him to fullness in the dark, hold a Springfield steady as he squeezed off a shot.

 

He feels Monty and Jones come to stand behind him, and Jones mutters a choked prayer.

 

Steve looks away from Bucky's-- from _the_ arm, blinking back moisture, when he spots something shiny in the shrubbery of one of the trees.

 

It's a pin. Red star, gold wreath, hammer and sickle, Cyrillic text.

 

The Soviets. The Soviets found him, and threw his arm away before they rescued him? Captured him?

 

"Get a blanket," Steve says grimly, jaw clenching so tightly his teeth ache. "And bring the jeep around. We're following these tracks."

 

Dernier offers to wrap the arm so Steve doesn't have to, but Steve refuses. He tenderly untangles it from the trees, and places it in the centre of a blanket, before swathing it up with care. If something goes wrong, if they don't find him, he wants to be able to send something home to the Barnes family to bury.

 

Steve wraps a scarf around his nose and mouth, and follows the tracks, while Dernier, Monty and Jones follow at a distance in the jeep, Monty tracking their route on the map. He doesn't know how far Bucky might've been taken, and is unwilling to leave their transport behind in case they need to make a quick escape with him being severely injured.

 

He's not sure, but postulates that any soldiers out and about wouldn't be able to travel far without transport or a base close by.

 

The question that plays on Steve's mind as he trudges through the snow is... what are Soviet soldiers doing in Austria? There's never been any mention of a Red Army presence this far west.

 

Steve follows the tracks in the snow for two painstaking hours, before the scenery changes. He holds up a hand to stop the jeep, gesturing for the Commandos to exit.

 

They catch up with him, parking the jeep out of the way -- facing the direction they just came from -- and join their Captain hunkered down behind some rocks.

 

Following Steve's line of sight, they see a structure protruding from the rocks, and signs of activity.

 

"It looks like... a base," Jones whispers.

 

The fur _ushankas_ and heavy taupe-coloured overcoats are a dead giveaway. "What on Earth is the Red Army doing _here_?" Monty says disbelievingly, echoing Steve's previous thoughts.

 

While many of the Commandos' missions have involved storming into HYDRA facilities with guns blazing, many have also involved stealth. Steve uses that approach now.

 

"I don't know, but I'm not all that keen on walking up and asking them," Steve says. "I get the impression that they don't want anyone to know they're here, and might not take well to us just strolling up... so we need to get in there, and we need to do it _quietly_. Weapons at the ready, but this is a stealth mission. Go hand to hand when confronted, gunshots will only draw attention. We need to find out what they're doing, and find out where they're holding Bucky."

 

Silent and armed, the four soldiers wait for a patrol sweep to go by, before Steve and the Commandos slip in. It seems that the Russians have thought the location for their base is preventative enough against intrusion, and so there are no huge security measures.

 

Steve breaks the lock with his shield and they head in.

 

It's not exactly like HYDRA bases they've raided, but there is a certain familiarity to it, and that's enough to ring alarm bells in Steve's mind. For the most part, there are soldiers moving about in small groups, talking in excitable voices. Unfortunately, none of them speak Russian, so what they're excited about remains unknown.

 

"What do you suppose this place is?" Jones asks. "Doesn't look like munitions, or barracks, or... _anything_." It doesn't help that no-one can read the Cyrillic on the doors or signs.

 

Dernier, who had moved on ahead, gives a little whistle and everyone freezes, before taking cover.

 

The two men who walk past are most definitely not Russian; their red skull logos with the tentacles stand out like blood in the snow. While HYDRA being involved is never a good thing, the German is much easier to pick up. He picks up snatches of conversation, and quite distinctly hears them talking about 'The American', and the imminent moving of him.

 

They wait for the soldiers to pass. Steve turns to his men, to find three sets of eyes boring into his. "You all heard the same thing I did?"

 

The three of them nod grimly. "Didn't happen to catch where he's being held, did you?"

 

Jones winces and hesitates before he answers. "Medical, downstairs."

 

Steve's hand tightens so hard around the handle of his shield that the leather creaks.

 

Without any knowledge of the layout of the facility, it takes a good ten minutes to find how to get downstairs, another ten to locate the lab, all the while evading detection. Steve makes sure to pay close attention to his surroundings; he's going to want to get them out of here quickly once the get Bucky.

 

The medical bay looks more like a laboratory, and that knowledge makes Steve's insides shrink, makes them hurt for his friend. The only time Bucky ever talked about being afraid was on that table in Kreischberg.

 

Steve spots the familiar blue fabric first, right arm dangling limply off the edge of a gurney. Everything seems to slow down to a grinding halt as the Commandos lay eyes on their Sergeant. Steve can make out his face, pale and slack. There's no movement, and for a few terrible moments Steve thinks they've come all this way to be too late, until he catches the bare shallow movements of Bucky's chest rising and falling.

 

Someone in a lab coat looks over him and writes some things down in a clipboard, before moving away. He can see some other medical-type personnel in other parts of the lab, but no soldiers.

 

He turns to his men, speaking in a low voice. "Mission parameters have changed. This is no longer a stealth op; this is a smash and grab. Monty and Gabe, take out the scientists quickly and quietly, before they can raise the alarm. Dernier, I want you setting charges in here. We're going to light these bastards up on evac." Steve exhales sharply. "I'm going to get Bucky."

 

The waiting is hard. One of the scientists or doctors comes back through again to check some equipment. When his back is turned, they strike.

 

While Dum Dum is more adept at close quarters fighting than all the other Commandos except Steve, Monty and Gabe are no slouches in that department by any stretch of the imagination. It is easier to catch and subdue the technical staff than it would be soldiers, and not a lot of resistance is put up.

 

All this is taken in peripherally by Steve, because he's really focused on one task and one task only.

 

Steve runs to the gurney and rips at the restraints. He tries not to flinch at Bucky's left side. They've not taken him out of his uniform, only torn the rest of his sleeve off and applied a tourniquet to the remains of his arm. His pants are ripped and bloody, and both legs are bound to rudimentary splints, leading Steve to believe they're both broken. The same kind of splint is strapped to Bucky's right forearm. There's probably a myriad of internal injuries as well.

 

It's so fucking unfair.

 

"Buck, we have to stop meeting like this," Steve says, the tail end of his sentence dissolving into a sob as Bucky's eyes flutter open. He's in far worse shape than the previous times Steve's hauled him off a table, but in far better shape than what you'd expect after falling from a moving train.

 

Bucky is glassy and pale and sweating. He opens his mouth and nothing comes out at first, until he hears that voice. The Brooklyn drawl, gravelly and wrecked.

 

"Steve--" he says, and Steve's world snaps into focus.

 

"Sorry this is gonna be rough, Buck, but we're getting you out of here." Restraints snapped, Steve knows he won't be able to stand or walk, so he lifts Bucky as best as he can to rest over his shoulder, leaving his other arm free for the shield. Bucky grunts in pain, but doesn't say anything more. That might be good, or it might be very bad.

 

Falsworth and Jones have taken out the med personnel quickly and quietly. They run over and look hopefully at Steve. "How's he doing, Cap?" Jones asks worriedly.

 

"We need to get out of here," Steve says. "He needs--" Steve's lip curls up off his teeth, "-- _real_ doctors."

 

Steve looks to Dernier, who nods, and holds up his palm. "Five minutes?" he asks.

 

" _Oui_ ," Dernier confirms, as they move towards the exit.

 

"Want us to head out the way we came?" Jones asks on the way.

 

"Yes. Time for subtlety is gone, and the alarm'll probably be raised any second now. You need to shoot? Shoot. We've got to get out of here before this place blows. "

 

Just before they reach the top of stairs to the upper level, they run straight into a pair of Soviet soldiers. They yell in surprise, but Jones takes out one, Steve swings his shield and sends the other flying. The jolt startles a hiss out of Bucky.

 

The yell most certainly raises the alarm, though, and Steve can hear booted feet pounding double-time to their position. "Move!" he urges them up the stairs faster.

 

Their escape is something of a blur. Falsworth takes point with his Thompson, and the hesitation to use the weapons is now gone. Whatever this facility is for, it's not highly manned currently, and that works in their favour. Somewhere close to their initial entry point, the first of Dernier's charges explodes, rocking the base. Every few seconds, another charge goes off, making the ground shake.

 

The explosions breed chaos, but also draw more soldiers out into the fray. Bullets ping off Steve's shield, but he doesn't risk throwing it away and leaving Bucky vulnerable; he leaves the offence to the Commandos.

 

Steve kicks through the thick metal door and into the cold. Bucky moans as the biting wind hits him, and he's jostled around by Steve's running. Steve mutters so many apologies under his breath.

 

It was a good idea to bring their jeep, even better to have it turned towards their escape route. "Open the doors!" Steve yells to Jones, who wrenches the back of the jeep open. Steve and Bucky get in, Gabe following right behind. Monty takes the wheel, and Dernier jumps into the passenger seat. Soldiers begin spewing out of the base, yelling and firing at them.

 

"Go!" Steve screams, and Falsworth doesn't mess around. He yanks the jeep into gear and floors the accelerator. The sharp sounds of automatic gunfire follow them, bullets piercing the back. Steve covers Bucky's body with his own as Jones keeps his radio equipment steady.

 

When the jeep stops rocking, Steve grabs the blankets that Peggy provided, wrapping Bucky up as best he can. Bucky's eyelids flutter, grey slits under bruised eyelids.

 

"Are you with me, Buck?" Steve asks, brushing Bucky's hair away from his forehead, his skin far too cold. His breathing is shallow, coming in gasps.

 

"Steve," is all Bucky can seem to say, before his eyes roll back into his head, and he loses consciousness.

 

**THEN**

Steve sometimes feels isolated by his abilities. He wanted more than anything to be normal, but went from one extreme to the other. Now he's different, and while it's amazing not to wheeze when he breathes, and be able to see a full colour spectrum, there's always a sense of Otherness that pervades him when he's around people that aren't the Commandos, or Peggy.

 

He feels at his most normal when he's with Bucky, because Bucky has that Otherness, too. They are abnormalities, but they're in it together.

 

There's not much science to figuring out how far Steve and Bucky can go with their bodies; Steve leaps over obstructions like a gazelle, pounding into armoured plated tanks and peeling back steel like peeling and orange. Bucky makes increasingly impossible shots over distance, and his fighting gets tougher. There have been a few times Bucky's thrown a few sparring punches at Steve, and Steve's been impressed at the speed and force behind them.

 

They never properly get the chance to spar -- always so many people around, and Steve's not that good an actor that he can fake he's letting Bucky win -- but those little instances give Steve an inkling that Bucky's body has definitely reaped some benefits of being experimented on.

 

And while it's an awful, selfish thought, Steve's glad he's not alone. He's glad he doesn't have to be too concerned when Bucky has the odd SSR solo mission.

 

Because Bucky is stronger and faster. He'll be okay.

 

And Steve takes that for granted, until the day a more routine operation in the south of Switzerland goes pear-shaped.

 

There are only three Commandos the ground, Bucky taking rearguard while Dugan is vanguard, leading them into what seems to be the ground floor of an abandoned building. Steve is to the left, his shield protecting their more exposed flank.

 

It is not abandoned.

 

A nest of HYDRA vipers waits for them on the other side of the door. Bucky sees something suspicious just before they enter, but Dugan's a little too far forward and walks right into them before Bucky can yell a warning.

 

These particular HYDRA soldiers are a little different from those they've encountered before; they seem to be specially trained in hand-to-hand combat, and do not spare their skills.

 

Dum Dum is experienced in close-quarters fighting, and Steve has become one. Bucky, however, is at his most lethal the further away he is from the action.

 

That doesn't stop him from running into the fray to help out Dugan. Steve can still fight close-quarters with his shield, and Dum Dum is doing well, but Bucky is quickly becoming overwhelmed. Being faster and stronger doesn't compensate for his lack of skill against these accomplished fighters. Steve ducks as a fist goes flying towards his face, spinning out of the way and bringing his shield down into the back of the knees of his assailant.

 

The man goes down, but Steve has no time to assist his men; another black-clad figure steps up to him, using both hands like a cudgel to clout Steve on the side of the head. The helmet shields a lot of the blow, but being hit in the ear forcefully does disorientate him for a few moments. The best way he can help the others is to help himself and get his own goons under control first.

 

Steve catches flashes of Bucky in his peripheral vision as he fights, sees the Springfield he's using as a club get knocked from his grip. A moment later, another glimpse tells him one of the soldiers get hold of Bucky's holstered Colt. They wrestle with it, popping off two shots into the wall before it skitters across the concrete floor and out of reach.

 

A figure with the red skull and tentacles embossed onto the front of black tactical gear jumps on Steve's back, and again his attempt to get to Bucky's side is thwarted. The knife that is tucked in Bucky's boot makes an appearance, and he hopes Bucky can hold his own and do some damage, seeing as how he's got his own problems currently.

 

"Heil HYDRA," a sibilant voice whispers near Steve's ear. Steve reaches around to grab the man by the back of his shirt and throw him over his head, hitting the opposite wall with a sickening thud.

 

Bucky's blood-curdling scream sees them all -- Commandos and HYDRA -- freeze for an instant. It's long enough for Steve to press an advantage. He clocks one of the last HYDRA agents he's fighting in the face with his shield and turns to see Bucky's knife sticking out of his own shoulder. In true Bucky fashion, even in pain he lashes out, kicking the soldier in the chest and sending him stumbling back.

 

Dugan finishes what Bucky starts, taking out the soldier that stabbed him with quite a few well-placed punches to the face, and Steve is finally able to turn to Bucky.

 

Bucky's sitting with his back against the wall, hand gripping the knife sticking out of his shoulder. It hasn't gone all the way in, maybe it's hit the bone on the way through, which has stopped its progress. Blood -- a lot of blood -- spills over his fingers as he clutches at the knife.

 

"Don't pull it out, Barnes," Dum Dum instructs gruffly.

 

"It fucking _hurts_ ," Bucky grits out, face screwed up in pain. His jacket shoulder is turning black with his blood alarmingly quickly.

 

Dugan gives Steve terse instructions on what not to do, before he leaves to bring the dilapidated old truck they'd been using as a cover vehicle around.

 

Steve stays with Bucky, helping to apply pressure to the wound, as Bucky takes quick, shallow breaths, sweat beading on his forehead even in the cold. Bucky's blood is so very red, and coats both of their fingers, making them slippery.

 

A horn sounds from the outside, and much to Bucky's disgust, Steve carries Bucky out, bridal-style, and lays him in the flatbed of the truck.

 

"Think you can keep him from rolling around back there?" Dugan calls over his shoulder, as he kicks the truck into gear.

 

"Can do. Get us back to camp," Steve instructs. He turns to Bucky, wiping the sweat from his forehead. "Hey, stay with me, Buck."

 

Bucky's breathing is erratic, and yet he still can hiss out a pained laugh. "Where th'fuck else would I be?" he bites out.

 

Steve looks down at his shoulder. He has no extra fabric to bind the wound, no med kit, so he uses his hand and exerts firm pressure down on the wound as best he can to stem the tide of bleeding. It's hard to do it around the knife, and Bucky thrashes beneath him, a high whimper of pain ringing in Steve's ears. Every little jolt of the truck makes Bucky cry out, even though he tries to muffle them by biting on his lip. Steve watches him tear into the soft flesh of his lip with his teeth and aches to be able to help more.

 

Steve frowns at his shoulder. "There's a lot of blood here, Buck. You might've nicked something important."

 

"Does that mean we gotta cancel tennis on the weekend?" he asks Steve. "This is gonna fuck up my backhand."

 

Steve huffs out a pained laugh. "Yeah, maybe just stick to lawn bowls from now on?"

 

"I'm insulted," Bucky says, before he cries out in pain as Dugan hits a pothole.

 

"Sorry, sorry," Dugan calls into the back.

 

Bucky looks up into Steve's worried face, his lips turning white. "Looks like... not so indestructible, huh?" he says softly, and Steve can feel the hand underneath his that's also holding the wound, shake. "Sniper's no good without a workable arm."

 

Steve gives him a feeble grin. "Well, _that's_ a load of shit. You'll just switch; don't think I haven't noticed you're ambidextrous, asshole."

 

Bucky laughs, but it turns into a cough, which has him curling in pain. "Almost got me a cushy job as a desk jockey n' you had to go spoil it," he says, though his last few words dip into a quiet register, fading out at the end.

 

The blood slows, but it doesn't stop flowing, and by the time they reach their small encampment, Bucky has stopped talking all together. His teeth chatter, his skin is clammy and cold, breathing coming in shallow gasps, lips turning blue.

 

Steve doesn't know what to do. None of his men have the required medical training to deal with this. Bucky may very well bleed out in his arms, and Steve will not be able to stop it.

 

After a harrowing ride back, Dum Dum pulls up into camp, parking beside a new vehicle; a Swiss Army jeep. Apparently, a military patrol had come across their camp and was looking to oust them from the neutral territory until Jones told them they were the Howling Commandos waiting for Captain America to return.

 

It seems even Switzerland got the newsreels, and the men were interested in waiting around to meet the famous American soldier.

 

And just as well, too, for one of these Swiss soldiers is a skilled field medic.

 

Dugan jumps out of the truck and raises the alarm, while Steve's still in the back with Bucky. "You'll be fine, up and at it in no time," Steve murmurs as he takes Bucky inside to one of their tents. "Just hold on."

 

The Swiss medic leaps into action, barking orders for supplies to his fellows. Steve lays Bucky down on his cot, ripping away at his heavy jacket so the medic can work. So much of the fabric has stuck to Bucky's shoulder and has been helping to marginally seal the wound. Tearing it away starts a fresh torrent of bleeding.

 

Bucky's been teetering for the past ten minutes, when this happens, he loses consciousness and goes into shock. Steve looks to the medic helplessly, a wiry man with brown hair and round glasses. The man pushes Steve's hands down onto Bucky's shoulder firmly, and gets Gabe to elevate Bucky's legs off the ground.

 

They wrap blankets around every part of Bucky they can, except his shoulder, to bring his core temperature up. The medic pulls the knife, and gets Steve once again to act as a pressure bandage while he goes about sterilising the wound, and then begins to sew it up. He murmurs things like 'losing blood' and 'nerve damage', making Steve's jaw clench.

 

With the knife discarded and Bucky sewn up, the medic needs a blood transfusion, too. Steve doesn't hesitate, rolling up his sleeve. For anyone else, he would worry about what his blood has the potential to do to them, but the only concern he has with Bucky is saving his life; they are different together.

 

After querying him on their respective blood types, Steve watches as the medic sets up a field transfusion kit. He doesn't watch as the needle goes into his arm, only watches Bucky's slack, clammy face and hopes it's enough, and it's in time.

 

"Hold on... Stay with me, Buck," he murmurs to Bucky's unconscious form.

 

In a surprising move, and despite their country's neutral political position, the Swiss patrol leap at the chance to assist Captain America, and travel with the Commandos back a short way across the border into Italy and back to base. Bucky makes it to the SSR medical facility, and goes immediately into theatre to be operated on.

 

Steve waits. He debriefs Colonel Phillips from the medical corridor, still covered in Bucky's blood, where he refuses to budge. Hours later, he is allowed to go in and see Bucky. The camp doctor has given Steve quite a talking to about Bucky outside, saying that while the knife didn't go as deep as it could've, there are clusters of very important nerves in the shoulder that may have been damaged. Bucky might not be able to move his extremities. This injury could ultimately affect Bucky's mobility and his tenure in the Commandos.

 

Steve nods and listens without really hearing. He just wants to get inside and see him.

 

Bucky's been cut out of his blue jacket. He lies under a sheet pulled up to his armpits, a white bandage covering most of his right shoulder. Steve immediately looks to his chest, to see it rising and falling steadily. A hideous and ugly knot that's been in his chest for hours loosens slightly.

 

Steve goes to sit in the single chair by Bucky's bed, watching his friend pensively. There are some hairs that are deliberately falling onto Bucky's forehead, and Steve brushes them away with a gentle hand. The slight movement causes Bucky to stir, frowning.

 

"It's okay, Buck, you can rest," Steve says in a low voice.

 

Bucky's eyes flutter open, and they are mostly clear, if exhausted. "Steve," he murmurs, and makes an aborted attempt to try and push himself off the bed.

 

"At ease," Steve says, and the words make Bucky stop and sink back. "We're back at base, and you're okay."

 

Bucky sighs. He looks to his right shoulder, and at the bandages there. "Who brings a knife to a gun fight, anyway?" he asks, speech a little lazy and slurred.

 

"You do, apparently," Steve gives a tired grin.

 

Bucky's lips pinch. He looks up at Steve, locking eyes with him and not letting him go. "How bad is it? Really?"

 

Steve takes a deep breath. "The blade nicked an artery and you lost a lot of blood. We're the same blood type so I... I gave you a transfusion." He's hesitant in imparting this knowledge, wondering if Bucky will be mad at him. So much has been done to Bucky without his permission, in a perfect world, Steve would've wanted to ask Bucky if he wanted Steve's blood as they're not sure it would have any adverse affects him. Steve refrains from elaborating on this point, just in case someone overhears them; the room isn't exactly secure.

 

Bucky raises his eyebrows, but otherwise doesn't seem in any way upset, and he closes his eyes. "Maybe I'll grow a few inches, or something," he remarks.

 

"Not where it counts," Steve says automatically, and Bucky groans.

 

"You're such a fucking punk," Bucky says, huffing out a laugh.

 

Steve smiles, but it's a little strained. The silence makes Bucky open his eyes again. He takes in Steve's expression and sighs. "What else?"

 

Steve can't quite meet his eyes, squirming under the stalwart gaze. "Am I benched?" he asks quietly.

 

"You need to heal," Steve says, touching Bucky's arm at his elbow. The skin is cold, and he internally cringes. "That will require you taking it easy for a little bit."

 

Bucky pauses for a long time, looking into Steve's face. And if Steve has come to know anything in their acquaintance, it's that Bucky can read him easier than a cheap dime-store pulp novel.

 

Part of the reason their level of trust is so high is that they're terrible at concealing things from one another.

 

"What else?" he presses again.

 

Steve looks to Bucky's injured shoulder, his fingers flinch against Bucky's skin. "The doc thinks that you could sustain nerve damage that'll affect the movement of your arm, or hand. Or both."

 

"Maybe that crack about being a desk jockey was prophetic... He thinks I won't be able to move my fingers?" Bucky asks, and Steve hears the worry in his tone. With limited movement in his arm or hand, it could severely affect his ability to be an active member of the Howling Commandos.

 

Steve's hand slips down to Bucky's cold digits, folding them in his warm palm. "He said you're unresponsive right now, and that's normal given the location of the injury. It might take--" weeks/months/never "--a while before they know how much feeling and dexterity you'll get back."

 

Bucky exhales sharply, and they are both quiet. "I might surprise you," he says.

 

"You usually do," Steve says, bravely trying for another smile.

 

"Maybe earlier than you think."

 

"I'm hoping so."

 

"Steve--" Bucky says, and he rolls his eyes just a little. "You're sometimes kinda thick."

 

"What do you--" Steve starts, until he realises his fingers are getting squeezed.

 

By Bucky's right hand.

 

Steve's eyebrows skyrocket and he looks at their joined hands. Bucky's grip is weak, but he's definitely putting pressure on Steve's fingers, even after the doctor was so vehement that Steve not expect anything at all.

 

"Bucky," Steve starts, running his thumb across his cold knuckles, "how...?"

 

"You told me to hold on," Bucky says simply.

 

**NOW**

"Hold on, Bucky, you stay with me. You're safe now, y'hear? You're _safe_."

 

"Cap, he going into shock?" Jones asks, wild-eyed. Steve remembers Gabe being on hand to help when Bucky was in a bad way in Switzerland.

 

The only difference is now they're down a medical professional and the ability to do _anything_ other than keep Bucky warm. Steve casts a frantic eye over Bucky, but things are different from before.

 

Steve presses his index and middle finger against the side of Bucky's jaw, feeling a steady rhythm. To double-check, he leans down and rests his ear very gently against the cage of Bucky's ribs. A fairly strong and regular _thump-thump, thump-thump_ sounds.

"I don't think it's shock," Steve says slowly, "I think he's just unconscious."

 

"He's probably got lots of broken bones," Gabe points out tentatively, "maybe the jostling of the truck is hurting?"

 

Steve nods wordlessly. He takes the opportunity of Bucky being unconscious to carry out as gentle an inspection of his body as he can.

 

His left arm is... well, it's _gone_. The stump has been dressed and looks fairly clean, so either the tourniquet about three inches away from the end of the wound has stemmed the blood flow suitably, or his bandages have recently been changed. Both legs are broken, but have been set and splinted, and they're probably begun the healing process already, Steve thinks privately. There are at least four broken ribs, and given the wheeze Steve heard when he put his ear to Bucky's chest, perhaps a fragment is pressing in on one of his lungs, likely other internal injuries. His right forearm is in some way broken or fractured, but again, splinted and seems to be in as good a condition as it can be.

 

"His shoulder's dislocated," Steve says, "and I think it probably happened during evac." He is remorseful, but unsure how it could've been prevented, given the firefight and the way Steve had to bundle Bucky over his shoulder.

 

Steve gestures to Gabe. "Help hold him. I'm gonna pop it back in."

 

"Should you do it now?" Gabe asks.

 

"Better now when he can't remember it," Steve answers grimly.

 

Gabe nods, and rests his hands gently against Bucky's collarbone and bicep respectively. Steve gingerly takes Bucky's hand in his right, left on his elbow as a guide, seeing as he doesn't dare take hold of Bucky's splinted forearm. With a nod to Gabe, Steve begins a slow, steady pull of Bucky's arm.

 

He feels the muscles stretch in his grip, and there's a wet grind-pop sound as the ball finds its socket again. Gabe cringes at the sound and Steve immediately lessens the tension. Bucky doesn't stir.

 

"And that's why you do it before he's awake, I guess," Gabe says wryly.

 

Steve looks down at Bucky, feeling relieved and terrified in equal measures. He takes another blanket and tucks it around him as best he can, before settling beside him, back against the side of the jeep.

 

It's a long and bumpy ride, but Bucky doesn't regain consciousness. Steve checks in with the men in the front seat periodically, checking on their progress. Given they are directly backtracking their previous route without having to pick a path, the return seems to be going faster. He watches Bucky for any minute signs of change, but Bucky gives up nothing.

 

Jones repeatedly tries to use his radio to get in touch with Morita, but he can't seem to make contact. It might be interference from the mountains, and it might be that the SSR have gone ahead with their plan to hit Schmidt's base in Bavaria.

 

Which they're travelling in the opposite direction of.

 

Steve charges him staying on the radio, attempting every two minutes to make contact. If they've indeed started to hit the Red Skull, if there's any intel Steve can get... any way to join the fight after making sure Bucky is on his way to safety, he will.

 

Steve doesn't leave the back of the jeep, doesn't leave Bucky's side as they make their way back to Italy. There's not anything more he can do, but if Bucky happens to regain consciousness on the way back, Steve doesn't want him to have any question as to where he is, or whether he's safe.

 

All the while, Bucky remains motionless. Steve periodically re-takes his pulse, and it remains strong. With the level of injury he's suffering, maybe the lack of consciousness is his body's way of trying to heal itself. He ends up getting underneath the blankets with Bucky, hoping some of his natural body heat will help keep him warm. Of course, the most direct way to share the heat would be for both of them to strip, but that isn't going to happen. If they hit trouble before the base, clothing for either of them is not optional. So just sharing the blanket will have to do.

 

Monty announces from the front seat that they're around ten miles from the SSR base, and Steve gets out from underneath the blankets, taking his first deep breath in around twenty-six hours. He's been awake for about forty-eight, and is starting to show signs of fatigue around the edges.

 

However, if they ran into a crack team of HYDRA troops, he'd probably _still_ be able to take them out.

 

The Commandos finally drive into the base, to find it half-manned. Steve grabs the nearest available soldier and gets him to summon a medical team. In under two minutes, a gurney is run out of the compound, a doctor and two nurses accompanying it.

 

Gabe and Steve help lift Bucky onto the gurney, and they wheel him quickly inside while Steve keeps pace beside them, and does his best to give the doctor as much information on Bucky's current medical condition that he can. When they get to surgery, Bucky is wheeled in, but Steve is stopped from entering.

 

"Thank you for your help, Captain, we can take it from here," the doctor -- Smythe, Steve seems to recall his name is -- says, blocking his access.

 

"But--" Steve starts, trying to sidestep.

 

"Unless you're a surgeon, you're no good in there. It's a miracle he's survived this long; let us do our best without any interference."

 

"He might be resistant to pain relief, or anaesthetic," Steve says frantically. "And no straps. No restraints. He's been a POW and waking up like that might set him off."

 

"Understood," Smythe says. "I've worked with POWs before. We will do what we can, and let you know."

 

And Bucky is whisked away.

 

Steve runs a hand through his hair and turns away from the surgery door, at a loss as to what to do now. Gabe pats him on the shoulder and they exit the corridor.

 

Outside, they meet up with Dernier and Monty.

 

"Barnes?" Monty queries.

 

"In surgery," Steve sighs, scrubbing his hand over his face. "Have to hope for the best now." He's exhausted and filthy and stinks of gunpowder and smoke. He's been grazed by a Soviet slug, and feels the blood trickling over his ribs, itching all the way down. The shield feels too heavy on his back and Steve just wants to drop it and sleep for a hundred years.

 

"Have you found Dum Dum and Jim?" he asks. Falsworth shakes his head gravely. "Peggy?" Steve presses, to another shake.

 

Steve furrows his brow. He needs intel. They've been gone close to twelve hours, but that can be a lifetime in war. So much can happen in five minutes, let alone twelve hours. "I'm going to go find out what happened, and potentially get into a whole lot of trouble with the Colonel."

 

It's a measure of how tight his team is that the rest of the Commandos follow him to the war room without question.

 

There's a skeleton crew manning it, and Steve doesn't imagine the frosty welcome he gets when he enters. Lieutenant Masters, a heavy-set man with blond hair thinning at the temples is the ranking officer on duty. He looks up from a radio console to see Steve walked in flanked by the Commandos.

 

"Nice to see you could join us, Captain," Masters says, voice dripping with sarcasm. Steve doesn't rise to the bait.

 

"I'd like to speak with Colonel Phillips or Agent Carter," Steve says calmly.

 

"They are currently unavailable, as they're off doing their jobs."

 

Steve bites the inside of his cheek at the insubordination towards a superior officer. He knew he was going to cop attitude from people, there's no point in getting his nose out of joint about it. But he _needs_ to find the rest of his team, and speak with Phillips. Taking Masters to task over this isn't worth the trouble.

 

"Where is everyone? The base is half-empty." Steve gestures to the room, made up of mostly low-ranking communications officers.

 

"Doctor Zola informed us of Schmidt's plans to launch an aircraft -- the _Valkyrie --_ loaded with bombs bound for cities in the US and around the world. A team was deployed to prevent that."

 

Steve stiffens. This is the _last_ thing he wanted. He should've been on that team. Hell, he should've been the one _leading_ it; taking down Schmidt once and for all, but the window to find Bucky was so narrow...

 

"Have you had any communication from them?" he presses, "what's the situation?"

 

Masters looks down at some reports. "Last radio contact was that the _Valkyrie_ had been taken down, but it has yet to be officially confirmed."

 

"How long ago was that?"

 

"Two hours," Masters answers.

 

Two hours ago he was in the back of a bumpy jeep with a severely injured Sergeant, having blown up a secret Soviet base affiliated with HYDRA. It seems like a lifetime ago already.

 

"Have you tried to contact them again?"

 

"Of course, but the mountains are playing havoc with our radio signals."

 

Steve huffs out a breath. "Keep trying, Lieutenant," he says, emphasising Masters' rank, "and notify me immediately should you make contact." He pauses. "I'll be in medical waiting for Sergeant Barnes to get out of surgery."

 

At the mention of Bucky, Masters blinks in surprise. Odds are, the reasons why he took off at a moment's notice have undoubtedly made the rumour mill around the camp. It couldn't hurt to drop the nugget of information that he was successful in his mission, even if Bucky's status is still unsure. Steve turns to leave, but stops just before he does. "Oh, by the way... do you have anyone that speaks Russian here?"

 

Masters frowns, and points to a dark-haired man with an aquiline nose in the corner. "Ramsay. Why?"

 

"Have him listen in on the Soviet communication frequencies, see if anyone's reporting the destruction of a secret HYDRA-affiliated USSR base in the Austrian alps. Someone might be talking about _that_."

 

Steve turns on his heel and exits the room, the Commandos following behind him.

 

Once he's out of sight, Steve slumps his shoulders forward in exhaustion. Jones immediately props him up. "Whoa, Cap, you need to rest."

 

He knows he does, but Steve doesn't want to sleep through Bucky waking or Peggy returning, and says so. Monty tells Steve he should shower and try and sleep, as it could be hours before either of those things occur. He'll probably get debriefed as soon as Phillips returns; it might be a good idea not to look like resident of skid row when that happens.

 

"We'll wake you as soon as there's news," Gabe promises.

 

Steve heads to the barracks and to the room he occupies when on base -- which is hardly ever -- and doesn't even make it to the shower before he passes out on his cot.

 

Sleep is dreamless, but somehow, still not restful.

 

He wakes with a start to a hand on his shoulder, which he grabs forcefully.

 

"Easy, Cap, it's just me. It's Gabe," Jones says in a soothing tone.

 

It registers with Steve's brain and he releases his grip. "Gabe," he croaks out, "how long was I out?"

 

"Four hours or so," Gabe answers. Steve pushes himself up into a sitting position.

 

"Are Peggy and Dugan back yet? Is Bucky out of surgery? Is he okay?"

 

"Sarge is out of surgery and in recovery. He was really banged up, but they're calling is condition 'serious, but stable'." Steve lets out a noisy exhale that is half a sob, half a laugh. "He's sleeping off anaesthetic in medical."

 

"That's... that's great," Steve says. It feels like the first good news he's had in days. "What about the others, are they back?"

 

Gabe's face is unusually grim. "Radio contact was achieved thirty minutes ago, they're just about back on our doorstep."

 

Steve pushes himself up off the cot. There's no time to get out of his filthy uniform, or even wash his face of the dirt and blood. "Did they say anything?"

 

Gabe hesitates before he answers, but what he says isn't really a surprise. "The mission was a success... but Phillips wants to see you immediately."

 

It would be beyond foolish to think he can get away with disobeying orders and mounting a rescue operation -- _again_ \-- without repercussions. Dusting his hands off, Steve nods. Like anything else in his life, Steve intends to meet the consequences head-on. "Can't say I wasn't expecting this. I'll meet him out front." Shoulders back and head high, Steve strides out of the barracks and straight out into the compound to meet the Colonel.

 

There are harsh whispers and lots of staring as he passes by, and contrary to the attention he ordinarily gets on base, it's not as warm and friendly and respectful as it usually is.

 

Ignoring the voices, Steve goes to the front of the compound and waits for the trucks to roll in. The gates open and three battered trucks enter. They come to a stop just in front of Steve.

 

Steve straightens up, snapping to attention as Phillips deliberately ignores him as he gets out of the cab of the first truck, flanked by a few of his men.

 

Each of the trucks unloads personnel, and Steve immediately notices the mood is incredibly sombre; not one he would associate with a victorious operation.

 

Steve throws a salute out as Phillips approaches. "Colonel," he greets.

 

"Rogers," the Colonel replies, quite deliberately not returning the salute, nor addressing Steve by his rank.

 

Perhaps Steve has otherwise underestimated _exactly how much shit he's in_ right now. He's not getting a read off Phillips. The man has always been a bit of a mystery, but now his face is positively stony.

 

"I ought to call a military tribunal and have you court-martialled for dereliction of duty," he says with steel.

 

Steve's lips thin. "I understand, sir, and will submit to whatever disciplinary action you deem necessary... However... With all due respect, my first duty has always been to keep my team safe. I was successfully able to retrieve Sergeant Barnes, who has suffered some serious injuries, but I'm told is recovering in the medical bay now."

 

Phillips' eyes bore into Steve's, bushy greying eyebrows drawing together. "'Keep your team safe', huh? You sure about that, son?"

 

There's something in his tone that makes Steve's heart palpitate.

 

"Did it ever occur to you that while you were A.W.O.L., the rest of _your team_ might need you?"

 

"Sir...?" Steve asks with confusion, "is-- are the rest of the Commandos--"

 

Phillips shakes his head, short and sharp, and Steve's heart is in his throat. "You and I are going to have a conversation later that you are not going to enjoy," he says. "Don't leave this base, and consider that a direct, mandatory order, rather than a casual suggestion."

 

Phillips eyes Steve's ratty appearance and sidesteps him. "And for God's sake, Rogers, clean yourself up before you see me. Dismissed." Without looking over his shoulder, Phillips leaves him standing in the middle of the compound.

 

Steve is confused, and worried he hasn't seen the other Commandos yet. He turns towards the vehicles, still unloading soldiers, and catches sight of two familiar men. He mutters a silent prayer as Dugan and Morita both slip out of the second truck, and walk towards him.

 

Despite the massive amounts of hot water he's in, Steve can still find it in himself to feel relief that his men -- his _friends_ \-- made it back from an otherwise dangerous mission.

 

Dugan looks haggard and drained, Morita's eyes rimmed with red. Something cold and hard settles in his stomach, and Steve can't dislodge it. He supposes that could be from the stress of battle, but it _feels_ like more than that.

 

"Did you find the Sarge?" Dum Dum asks immediately.

 

"I did, yeah. He's hurt real bad, but... I think he's going to make it," Steve tries to give them a smile. It's strained, at best. He waits for Dum Dum to offer anything about their operation, but there is nothing but chilled silence. Steve presses on. "What about you? Took down Schmidt? Who led the mission?" He looks around searchingly. "Where's Peggy?"

 

The Corporal swallows loudly, and takes off his hat. Morita looks at his boots.

 

Oh no. Oh no no no--

 

"In your absence, Agent Carter led the mission into Bavaria, and Schmidt's base."

 

\--no no no nononono--

 

"She successfully stopped Schmidt -- we don't know how -- but the _Valkyrie_ was armed and heading for New York..."

 

\--nononoNONONONONO--

 

"Tim, where is she?" Steve pleads, gripping his forearms so tight that he winces.

 

"When she couldn't stop the plane, she-- she put her in the water."

 

\--NONONONO _NONONONONONONO--_

 

The bones in Steve's knees crunch as he hits the ground, half-collapsing in the dirt of the compound.

 

**NOW**

Steve is in a chair at Bucky's bedside when he finally wakes up. At first, his eyes move rapidly back and forth beneath his eyelids. Then there's a small, muffled sound of pain, before Bucky's eyes blink open. He tries to get up almost immediately, and Steve places gentle hands on Bucky's chest. Steve exerts the minimum amount of force needed to keep him lying down.

 

"Hey, it's okay. Bucky, you're at the SSR base in Italy, and you're safe," Steve murmurs, repeating 'it's okay' and 'you're safe' again and again until Bucky's muscles lose their tension beneath his hand.

 

He blinks slowly and looks at Steve, and a series of emotions flicker across Bucky's face: pain, relief, confusion, warmth. Steve manages a watery smile, and Bucky returns it.

 

"Steve," Bucky says, his throat wrecked. "How... did I get... I don't remember--"

 

"Do you want some water?" Steve asks, and Bucky nods.

 

Steve takes a glass from the side table and helps Bucky take a few sips from it, propping his head slightly. He watches Bucky drink, half-disbelieving that his friend is even conscious, even _here_. Part of him wants to grab Bucky and hold on so tight, but the tiny part of his brain thinking objectively right now doesn't want to do anything that might exacerbate his injuries. So Steve is calm, and gentle, and focuses on his task, and tries not to break apart at the seams.

 

When Bucky's done, he presses his lips together, swallowing. The action looks uncomfortable.

 

"What's the last thing you recall?" Steve asks quietly.

 

Bucky screws his eyes shut. "Falling... but cold. So cold... There were voices that I couldn't understand." He opens his eyes once again. "And pain. Like all of my bones were being broken and remade and-- Steve. _Steve._ Where's my arm, Steve?" Bucky has cast his eyes down for the first time, seeing the bandaged stump of what remains of his left arm. It takes him by surprise, his eyes wide and face stricken.

 

The rising horror in Bucky's voice makes Steve stand next to the bed. Bucky tries to get up, but his right arm is in a sling and his left arm is. Well. It's in a specialised case in the medical wing, but Steve doesn't think Bucky will be able to take that news.

 

"Buck, shhh, it's okay," he says, trying to calm Bucky's growing hysteria. "You lost it. In the fall from the train. But some Soviet solders found you and took you to a base."

 

"Soviets...?" Bucky asks, his voice still bubbling with panic. "What the fuck are the Russkies doing in Austria?"

 

And this, this is why finding Bucky was so important. Because Steve said the _exact same thing_. Even with his body so terribly broken, Bucky's spirit is intact. Always focused, always a dedicated soldier. Steve laughs, and trails off before it can become a sob.

 

"This is what I said, you know?" he puts his hand over Bucky's right, and the touch seems to allow Bucky to relax somewhat. "Whatever they were doing there... they found you and saved your life. We--" Bucky raises his eyebrow at the 'we', and Steve elaborates. "--Gabe, Dernier, Monty, me -- we found you and brought you back."

 

Bucky's attention is drawn back to the space where his arm ends in bandages, his chest rising and falling quickly. Steve is afraid he's going to hyperventilate.

 

"Old man Jenkins came back from the Great War without a leg," Bucky says, his voice thin. "He used to work on the docks, bringing huge containers ashore. When he got back, the only place he could get a job was the newsstand, where he could sit all day. Barely made enough to live off of, in the Depression." He pauses. "He died in the winter of '39 with nothing and nobody."

And Steve understands.

 

Bucky is scared of what this means for him. He can no longer go out into the field, his active duty is as good as finished. And as much as Bucky hates war, he likes being a soldier, is _good_ at it. He likes looking after his men, he likes his unit, he has loved seeing more of the world than his little corner of Brooklyn.

 

With his arm gone, even if all his other injuries heal well, the best he can look forward to is some sort of desk job, if he can get one of those at all.

 

Bucky is an incredible man and a dedicated soldier, and Steve can't imagine him being reduced to the pitying recipient of sympathy.

 

"I can still feel it and it hurts. It fucking _hurts_ ," Bucky says, and Steve can see the whites of his eyes.

 

"The doc said this might happen if... if you woke. Your brain is telling your shoulder that your arm is still there," Steve tells him gently. "It will get better, but your system's had a really big shock."

 

Bucky takes deep, shuddering breaths, and works at calming himself. Steve curls his fingers further into Bucky's palm, and he thinks it helps a little. He sees Bucky take the moments of silence to compose himself, bring his own reactions under control. This isn't the first time Bucky has faced losing the use of a limb; he's had to deal with the prospect of continuing on with a grievous injury before.

 

"How bad is everything, anyway?" Bucky asks, flicking his eyes down. He can't see his lower body, but can undoubtedly feel the splints and bandages.

 

"Broke both your legs and your right arm," Steve lists off. "Dislocated shoulder, cracked pelvis, six broken ribs, ruptured spleen, some internal bleeding, concussion."

 

"Is that all," Bucky says, shaking his head. "Remind me not to pick up your shield anymore, because--" He stops suddenly, craning his neck away from the pillow. "The train. Zola. Did you get Zola?"

 

Steve nods. "We got him," he confirms, and Bucky relaxes.

 

"Little toad. Did he spill about Schmidt's plans?"

 

Steve nods jerkily. He begs Bucky silently from the deepest recesses of his heart to drop the subject. But Bucky looks at him expectantly, wanting him to continue. "And?" he prompts. "What's he gonna do? I'm assuming you're going to go out and stop him. I--" Bucky pauses, bitterness creeping into his voice, "--I think you're probably gonna have to go without me."

 

Steve opens his mouth to answer, but all that comes out is a choked off wheeze. Bucky gives his head a little shake. "Hey, it's okay. I can stay behind on comms, maybe? Jim knows I know what to do, and I can still work the radio--" he wiggles the fingers of his right hand briefly, "--I don't want to miss out on the final push..."

 

Bucky keeps talking and Steve wants to weep. Because he mistakenly assumes Steve's reaction has something to do with him not being part of the final solution. Steve bites his bottom lip savagely, until the flesh turns white.

 

"Steve?" Bucky finally notices Steve's expression, voice tainted with alarm. "What's wrong?"

 

Hanging his head, Steve tries to gather the courage he needs to speak. It's incredibly difficult. He feels Bucky's fingers in his hand give a small squeeze, so Steve does his best to swallow his heartache and speak.

 

"He had a plan for a final assault," Steve starts, his words jarring and stilted. "Warheads bound for different cities, all aboard a custom bomber called the _Valkyrie_..."

 

"Figures he'd call it something like that, Teutonic bastard," Bucky spits.

 

"I saw some of them labelled for Boston... Chicago... New York..."

 

Bucky's breath catches in his throat, and Steve knows exactly what he's thinking when his eyes go wide. He's thinking of his mother and father, his baby sisters, all the people he grew up with.

 

"Steve... tell me you've got a plan to take this son of a bitch down, _please_." Bucky's pleading tone makes Steve's heart ache like it's been torn apart bit by bit. Because what Steve knows and what Bucky doesn't know yet, is that Schmidt has been defeated.

 

But at what terrible cost.

 

"You don't need to worry, Buck. Peggy--" God, her name hurts to say, like razorblades slicing the soft flesh of his vocal cords "-- and Dugan, Morita, the SSR... they took the _Valkyrie_ and Schmidt down."

 

"Shit... really?" Bucky marvels. "But... when? And how?"

 

Steve wants to stop speaking. He wishes to _God_ he cold stop. But it's Bucky, and Bucky needs to know. "While... while I was going after you, they led a mission into Bavaria."

 

A small crease appears between Bucky's brows. "Without you?"

 

Steve breaks eye contact to look down at the sheets covering Bucky's chest. "I... disobeyed Phillips to lead a recovery team for you."

 

Bucky shuts his eyes. "Of all the boneheaded manoeuvres... fucking _hell_ , Steve." He looks upset. "I could've waited, you needed to be on that mission."

 

Steve shakes his head vehemently. "No, I couldn't. The trail would've gone cold... the Soviets who found you had a secret base, and they were planning on moving you... I don't know where. If I hadn't gotten you then, I might've lost you for good." Steve knows he's perilously close to pleading, but he needs for Bucky to understand. If the Soviets had moved Bucky, he might never have been recovered. "Besides, I was supposed to be back before they even sent anyone on that op."

 

Bucky sighs. "You should've on that mission," he repeats. "How much trouble are you in this time? Phillips probably pitched a fit and Peggy isn't gonna be able to pull you out eve-- Steve? Steve, what's the matter?"

 

Steve feels the drips down his cheeks, but he can't seem to stop them. He's lost fights before, but nothing has ever made him feel as _defeated_ as he feels right now; broken and hollow. Bucky's looking at him with such alarm, and it only makes everything worse. He's never seen Steve like this; nobody has.

 

"Steve, tell me what's happened," Bucky commands softly, squeezing Steve's hand once again. In response, Steve grips Bucky's fingers as tight as he can without injuring him any further.

 

"Peg-- Peggy led the mission when I wasn't there. _She_ stopped Schmidt, but--" he stops, trying to breathe. "The _Valkyrie_ was heading for home and-- and she meant to stop it."

 

Bucky's jaw falls open, colour draining from his cheeks. "No," he whispers.

 

"Morita was in the control tower talking to her. The bombs on board couldn't be released, but she was going to try and land the plane safely on a glacier and get out of there. But--" Steve stops, needing a moment to compose himself before going on. "But the landing gear was damaged. It didn't come down." Bucky winces. "She crashed into a glacier somewhere. Howard's sending out a recovery team, but the impact would've killed her."

 

The words are out; stark and unforgiving. Silence comes between Steve and Bucky, and it is anything but companionable. Static crackles in the air, making the hair on Steve's arms rise.

 

Bucky shakes his head slowly, horror etched on his features. "Steve... How..." he starts, breath hitching in chest. "How could you."

 

Steve is startled from his growing grief by the anger in Bucky's voice.

 

"I- I don't--"

 

"How the fuck could you sacrifice her for me? Not support your team? You idiot. You should've left me in the snow," he spits.

 

Steve's surprised at the venom. Nobody's dared blame him to his face about Peggy, even though he's spent hours blaming himself. To hear the searing indictment from Bucky is too hard. He's the one person Steve won't be able to take the blame from. He lashes out, fights back.

 

"You're my team, too! And I knew there was a good chance that you would still be alive if I could just get to you in time. Would you have preferred to bleed out? Be captured again?"

 

"The Soviets are Allies, they probably would've handed me over--"

 

"There was _HYDRA_ in that base, working _with_ them. I found you in a _laboratory_. Again." Bucky shudders at the revelation, and Steve pushes on, knowing the utter terror that gripped his friend under Zola's ministrations. "Would you have preferred to see what they had in store for you?"

 

Bucky stills, his eyes flashing terror, then stubbornness. "I... I don't care," he says, but there's a waver to his voice, strengthening Steve's doubt. "I've had more second chances than anyone has the right to have." Muscles work underneath his jaw. "This was _your mission,_ Steve. If you'd been there... maybe it would've turned out differently. It would've been better than choosing me over her."

 

And that tears at Steve's heart. "I didn't know I _was_ ," Steve admits, immediately feeling lower than dirt for the confession. "I didn't know I was," he whispers brokenly, collapsing onto the side of Bucky's mattress, sobbing. His tears wet Bucky's sheets.

 

Bucky's anger at him seems to dissipate a little, because he hears a grunt of effort, and feels fingers tentatively in his hair.

 

"Hey, shhh," Bucky says, his voice thick with sadness. The only sound in the sterile medical room is Steve's heart-rending weeping. It's ugly and harsh in the vacuum.

 

Steve feels Bucky's nails against his scalp, and he chokes a little on his tears. "I'm sorry, Steve. I'm so fucking sorry," Bucky apologises hoarsely.

 

"I didn't know," Steve murmurs again and again, until his words become unintelligible, and he very nearly passes out from exhaustion.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The fall-out is coming next. If you have any thoughts or comments on this, and you chose to leave a comment? You TOO are a rock-star, and I would appreciate your feedback.
> 
> These notes are in no particular order.
> 
> * This part is in the format of the previous fic, in that it's 3rd person limited to Steve's POV. The next part will depart from that to 3rd person omniscient, to allow for points of view from multiple characters.
> 
> * Bucky calls himself a 'gravel agitator' - WWII slang for 'infantryman'.
> 
> * In a discussion with my friend Cynthia, she said something to me that I've often thought, which is crashing the plane was pretty dramatic. But that's kind of Steve... he IS a little dramatic. We both feel like Peggy would've at least tried something else, or attempted to land the plane properly. It's just that fate wasn't on her side and it didn't end up working out anyway. Poor Peggy :(
> 
> * I couldn't find too much solid evidence for where exactly everything was set in the final scenes... the movie says Schmidt's base was in the alps, but the alps cover a lot of area and go through quite a few countries. I feel like the SSR base they would've been based out of would've probably been in London, but for location purposes in this story, I kept the base from which that final push was started in Italy. By 1945 Italy was back in the hands of the allies.
> 
> * also, Italy gave me a really good geographical location for the events of this fic.
> 
> * I have played SO hard and fast with some times and distances in this fic, just to suit the narrative. I've done research where applicable, but it's not wholly accurate. So... don't take travel times as gospel. Just go with me from a fictional standpoint.
> 
> * While many people write Morita as a medic for the Howling Commandos, I personally couldn't find any corroborating evidence to support this in the Marvel Wiki. Out of all the commandos, he's actually given the specific job of 'communications', and of course he's in the control tower when the Valkyrie is going down. It would make sense for one of the HCs to be a medic, though, especially if they're on their own a lot, but there's not anything to support this that I've found.
> 
> * Brenner Pass is a little area on the border of Italy and Austria. It's one of the principal passes on the range, and one of the lowest alpine passes in the area. It made sense to me for Bucky to fall somewhere here, where there is a plausible reason for him to survive the fall.
> 
> * Also, having them chasing Zola on his way to Schmidt's base, this is directly on the way to Bavaria, which is in the far south of Germany. Basically, if you're looking north, it goes Italy, then there's a skinny bit of Austrian land that pokes between Italy and Germany, then Germany. They are plausible distances and directions for which there to be travel/bases.
> 
> * Even though things played out differently, I couldn't not give Steve and Peggy their kiss.
> 
> * I cried writing this, especially during the hospital ward scene.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Peggy takes the Valkyrie down, Steve rescues a grievously injured Bucky from the Alps... now what?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is the first time I've written something spanning quite so much time, as it takes into account Steve and Bucky's futures as the universe unfolds. 
> 
> I'm so proud of this, gah. It was incredibly fun to write. But I wouldn't be nearly as proud of it if not for the ministrations of Sarah. Once again, she kicks my ass into shape. She's amazing. <3
> 
> As mentioned previously, the format for this part switches from being limited to Steve, to being omniscient, so you get to know Bucky's thoughts on things too, now.

**LATER**

 

After the _Valkyrie_ crash lands and cities around the world are saved from the threat of Schmidt's plans, victory in Europe is not far behind. Although on shakier ground, the Commandos -- minus Bucky, still recovering -- continue to strike out against HYDRA, though the organisation's influence significantly wanes after the disappearance of their leader.

 

While Captain America still commands a good deal of respect and admiration, some of the shine has gone off the title. More than a few rumours spread that the good Captain went A.W.O.L. hours before the takedown of Schmidt. Stories circulate that his ladylove went in his stead, and did what he could not do. More than a few drunk GIs try and goad Steve into a fight, claiming him to be a coward, hiding behind Agent Carter's skirts.

 

Steve steels his jaw and ignores them, only ever putting down the loudmouths if they get too personal about Peggy.

 

Steve swears the Commandos to secrecy with regards to Peggy's involvement in his defiance, so her record remains untarnished by the grey that now haunts his.

 

Phillips, while feeling a little for Steve over the loss of Peggy, nevertheless has to report Steve's unauthorised mission to the US Army. He cannot let the deception of the chain of command go unanswered when it resulted in the death of a valued Agent.

 

While it's not that much dissimilar to the first unauthorised foray into Austria that rescued more than one hundred Allied troops, Steve's wilful disobedience cannot be tolerated.

 

Dishonourably discharging Captain America is seen as bad PR, considering many still look up to him as a symbol of American freedom, so he is quietly urged to retire and hand back his battlefield commission. The SSR use their influence to make sure the press don't make a big song and dance about it at the time -- it is an anecdote at the bottom of a page of one newspaper, still covering major stories on the rebuilding of Europe, or how women are losing their factory jobs back to the men. It largely goes unnoticed, and Steve is thankful for the lack of public scrutiny.

 

Howard Stark never forgives Steve for Peggy's death. He takes his rescue party out searching for the _Valkyrie_ at its last known coordinates. It takes two months, but he finally finds it, half-buried in a snow bank.

 

He brings Peggy back in a box draped with the flag. The first sight of it has Steve throwing up as soon as he is alone, guilt gnawing at his bones like a hungry wolf.

 

She is given a state funeral in London, the Commandos acting as pallbearers. Steve and her remaining brother not killed in the war lead the procession. Bucky sits off to the side in a wheelchair, watching on with grief etched on his face. It's first time he sees Bucky since they both got shipped back Stateside, but they don't get to talk much. A press photograph of the coffin procession makes the papers, and it's the first glimpse of _Captain America_ the public have seen since the end of the War. There's a brief resurgence in speculation as to what happened at the end of Steve's military career, and renewed questioning of his whereabouts, but Steve goes to ground.

 

Howard talks of a new organisation, one to carry on the work of the SSR in the new world that has been created. At a loose end, and no longer having the Army nor a war to fight, Steve looks to Howard, asking if he can be of help.

 

While Howard still bears resentment, he also recognises what an asset Steve is, and Steve definitively leaves behind the title of 'Captain America' for 'Agent Rogers', though given the haze of his last few months in the Army, he is forced to go through a probationary period first.

 

The new organisation is called S.H.I.E.L.D., and Steve doesn't know whether that's a dig at him or not.

 

Bucky is honourably discharged with a Distinguished Service Cross, and sent home to Brooklyn to recover. He is immediately welcomed home by his family, who see to his needs until such time as he's able to walk around on his own. The Army physicians, and then his own doctor, are pleased that he seems to be healing so well, and so fast. Bucky just forces out a smile and blithely comments that it must be the air in Brooklyn.

 

Two weeks after he finishes healing, Bucky opens the door to the Barnes family home to find Steve Rogers standing there. Steve looks tired, but well. Winifred Barnes pushes past Bucky and drags in the man who saved her son from death twice, much to Steve's embarrassment.

 

He is doted upon by the Barnes clan, which is an entirely new experience. Having no family left of his own, and with the weight of suspicion on his shoulders, it's nice to be surrounded by people who unequivocally think he's done the right thing, and is grateful about it.

 

Some time later, when Bucky can pull him out onto the fire escape for a cigarette, Steve asks him to join S.H.I.E.L.D. After Bucky stops laughing at the name, he bitterly asks Steve what good he'd be with only one arm.

 

Steve pulls out roughly-sketched schematics for a high-tech prosthetic arm designed by Howard Stark out of his coat pocket, who apparently does _not_ blame Bucky for Peggy's death.

 

Bucky signs up immediately.

 

He moves into a small two-bedroom apartment with Steve, and becomes 'Agent Barnes'. It's novel to have their own space and yet still be so close together, but Bucky is glad to be out of his family's home. He lived alone before the war, but going back to stay with his sisters and parents proved to be far too stifling. It's nice to have a modicum of his independence back, even if he's glad of the security blanket of another person around to help with the things he finds difficult. Steve assists with anything he needs without question, and never looks at him like an oddity.

 

Sometimes Steve crawls into Bucky's bed at night and cries into his shoulder. Sometimes Bucky crawls into Steve's bed at night and kisses and touches him until they both gasp.

 

They sometimes discuss the touching. They _never_ discuss the crying.

 

The other Commandos are also offered positions within S.H.I.E.L.D., but only Dugan and Morita take Howard up on his offer; the rest wish to return to civilian life, and their families. Steve doesn't begrudge them one bit.

 

Agent Rogers is a different man to Captain America; he is at times a lot more serious. He wears suits into the S.H.I.E.L.D. offices, and dark grey tactical gear out in the field; the red, white, and blue was retired with the commission.

 

But in other respects, he is somehow lighter. The uniform with the star on the chest was so heavy, and sometimes Steve feels it was dragging him under. The weight of expectation of the Army, the SSR, the American people, was too much. Agent Rogers has no such pressures put on him, and he flourishes as an operative in the shadows.

 

All the while, Bucky is Steve's base liaison while he's out in the field. It's the sort of deskwork Bucky is good at -- information gathering, collating, seeing patterns and direction -- but actually hates. Without the physical element to being in the field, Bucky finds it boring. But he does it, because Steve needs the assistance, and because once the arm is finished, if it works like Stark promises it will, going back out into the field is only a matter of time.

 

It takes approximately six months before Bucky is fitted with the first version of his prosthetic arm, which is a combined feat of modern engineering and modern medicine, with wires that are connecting to the severed nerves left in his shoulder.

 

It shorts out and gives him electric shocks, and needs to be removed after twelve minutes.

 

Version two is fitted three weeks later. It's a marked improvement, but somewhat cumbersome and heavy. It at least doesn't give Bucky shock treatment. Bucky works hard at learning to use the arm. It takes a good deal of effort and long periods of use leave him exhausted, but in between his own projects, Howard will periodically upgrade or refit the arm.

 

 

As his arm gets easier to use, Bucky's confidence returns. He smiles more, that compelling upturn of his lip returning. Being based out of the S.H.I.E.L.D. office has its perks; he becomes quite popular with some of the young ladies who work there. He ends up seeing Coraline who works on the switchboard for about six months.

 

His mother hopes for wedding bells. It's not to be.

 

Steve still garners attention, but he seems unable to notice it. Bucky encourages him in between operations to go on dates, offering to double if he needs a wingman, but Steve just doesn't have it in him to consider the prospect at the moment. His heart is still so very wounded at the loss of Peggy. They live a strange alternating life, where Steve is out in the field and Bucky is back on base, then Bucky's out on dates and Steve is in their apartment.

 

Steve spends a lot of time in the quiet. Whether it's drawing, or taking long walks after dark, trying to parse out what it means to be Steve Rogers in this body, without a war to fight, with a heart feeling like its made of lead, it sits so heavily in his chest.

 

He doesn't always come up with answers he likes.

 

When Bucky's not seeing anyone, they sometimes get together. It's comforting, and feels familiar. It takes away for a time some of the emptiness Steve feels; he can pretend they're still in Europe and if he just goes outside his tent, he'll find Peggy striding through the compound to meet him.

 

Bucky asks him point-blank one night: "If you hadn't rescued me, do you think _you_ would've died on that plane?"

 

Steve replies with "Sometimes it's all I can think about," but doesn't necessarily answer. He abruptly goes to his bedroom and locks the door.

 

Hours later, when he's lying flat on his back, staring at the ceiling, he hears movement just outside his door.

 

"For what it's worth," Bucky says, time having changed his views somewhat, "I'm glad you rescued me. And I'm glad you didn't die."

 

Steve doesn't respond, but in the middle of the night Bucky finds Steve curled up against him. He doesn't cry that night.

 

It is the beginning of more nights like this.

 

Bucky is finally cleared for training as a precursor to fieldwork when outfitted with the twelfth version of Stark's arm. The first thing he does is head to the firing range. He stays there until his accuracy is in the ninety-eighth percentile once again.

 

The second version of his arm was the first to have a bendable elbow joint. The fifth had rudimentary articulation in the wrist and fingers. Sixth started to be shaped more to look like his right arm. The eighth's solid form was divided into interlocking plates, which somehow vastly increased the strength. The ninth, after an additional two surgeries to his remaining shoulder, was locked more into place via a socket, and became easier to remove if needed.

 

The twelfth version is the first to be made out of a vibranium alloy. It is also the first one to be painted with the star, big and red, on the deltoid. Bucky likes it as it associates him with his time as one of the Commandos with Steve, but different from the wing insignia.

 

It fails to escape his notice that the red is the exact same shade that most people associate with Peggy.

 

Bucky chooses to take it as an homage to her, rather as a torturous reminder.

 

Of course Steve notices. He stays silent. Howard's passive-aggressiveness towards him is nothing new.

 

Operation Paperclip is proposed by the government and then enacted within the S.H.I.E.L.D. ranks. When they take on former Nazi and HYDRA scientists, Bucky and Steve are vocal sceptics. There are still too many faithful to the precepts of both the Third Reich and Schmidt's insane vision to trust them.

 

When Arnim Zola is brought aboard as one of the scientists, Bucky goes terrifyingly silent. He takes a leave of absence, going so far as to leave their apartment for a while, too. Steve only needs to see Zola once in the lab, laughing cheerfully with a young American technician to know that this is a mistake. No matter how much Zola decries HYDRA as his captors, Steve knows fear only went so far -- Arnim did much of his work willingly.

 

Arnim Zola is found a week later with a perfect bullet-hole to his forehead.

 

Steve is put in charge of the investigation to find who killed the good doctor. The shooter is never found.

 

Bucky returns a week later, exhausted, unshaven and quiet. He sleeps in Steve's bed nightly for a week. His sleep is somewhat disturbed, and he talks of his dreams afterwards sometimes. But whereas they always used to end in a start from sharp fingers pulling him into the dark, or tearing at his flesh, Bucky tells him every dream now finishes with Zola's body on the ground, brains painting the wall.  

 

Zola's death changes something in the both of them, as though a horrible chapter from their past has been put to rest. And Steve doesn't want to stay how he is anymore, he doesn't want to wallow in who he has become.

 

He starts listening to Bucky's repeated efforts to take him out. They begin going on double dates, which is always an interesting experience. Steve's still not great at flirting, but Bucky becomes a great teacher at leading by example. The only thing Steve never does on dates is dance. It just has one too many sad associations. He never takes the girls out again who push him to get on the floor.

 

Sometimes Bucky brings home a girl, sometimes Steve does. Occasionally, they both do on the same night, but that leads to quite awkward breakfast conversation the next day, so that rarely happens. Their walls are thin.

 

The same faces occasionally make more than one appearance, but it doesn't really happen often enough to warrant more than passing notice. Once or twice, Steve comes back from an overnight operation to find a man he doesn't recognise having coffee in his kitchen, while Bucky's in the bathroom. Steve says 'good morning' politely, goes into his room, and waits for the stranger to leave.

 

Sometimes when they go out together, neither of them bring their dates home. Steve gets hot and bothered watching Bucky charm some beautiful young thing sometimes. If Bucky notices and is in the mood, he parts ways with her and they go home alone to fall into bed with one another. It's stinging bites and finger-shaped bruises on arms that fade before the morning. The imprint of ridged metal fingers on his shoulders. Steve says 'good morning' and touches Bucky's cheek softly. Bucky smirks at him over a coffee cup, pushing the morning paper over the table towards him.

 

Mrs Barnes despairs that two of the most eligible bachelors in Brooklyn might never settle down. Bucky has to stop his mother from attempting to marry Steve off to Becca. He tells her they're both kept so busy with S.H.I.E.L.D., it's hard to find time to meet women.

 

Bucky adds that a lot of women aren't lining up to step out with a fella with a robot arm. Steve snorts because he knows it's not true, and Bucky stomps on his foot under the table. Winifred tells him that anyone that looks at him and doesn't see the man first is unworthy of his notice.

 

Something jolts within Bucky, and he remembers giving a similar talk to Steve about Peggy back in Europe. He gives a sidelong glance to Steve, who shifts uncomfortably, seemingly remembering as well. It's a reminder of something he doesn't want to address currently, so Bucky changes the subject and drops a story about the pretty phone operator Steve took out last week. Steve is the subject of the next half-hour of loving harassment.

 

Meanwhile, Bucky's arm works better and better. He's nothing if not inventive; he takes to the gymnasium and learns how to fight hand-to-hand, using it as a weapon rather than having it be a hindrance. That combined with dedicated practice at bringing his sniping abilities back to a high standard, allows for more and more opportunities for fieldwork as back up.

 

The first time he is upgraded from support to a spot on Steve's actual team, Steve sees something in Bucky he hasn't seen in years -- the feeling of usefulness.

 

As the forties give way to the fifties, the suppression order concerning the information as to exactly how the Red Skull and HYDRA were brought down is lifted. Captain America as an icon had been slowly dipping into obscurity, only for interest to be revived once more uncensored stories of his tenure in the US Army surface, and the details of his mysterious absence from the Red Skull's takedown.

 

The reaction is mixed. There are those that praise him for his loyalty towards his unit, to _Bucky_ , by taking off to rescue his fallen comrade. To bring back another war hero who almost certainly would have died in the unforgiving tundra of Austria is seen as noble and brave.

 

But there are others -- _many_ others, in point of fact -- who see Steve's choice as desertion. Not necessarily as cowardice, but choosing the minor rather than the major mission. It doesn't matter to these people that the information released backs Steve up; the final push to the _Valkyrie_ was not on the table before he left for his rescue mission, and radio communications were marred by interference and weak signals... All they seem to care about is that Steve wasn't there.

 

_(To die)_

Peggy's story had only been half-told to that point, so shrouded in secrecy, but when the details come out she is almost universally hailed as a heroine of the War. Men and -- in particular, _women_ \-- want to know about her. She's not the first woman to give her life in the service of the Allies in WWII, but she becomes the most notable, a figurehead for women in the Armed Services of all nations. Steve's heart aches, even as he is so terribly, desperately _proud_ of her. For her courage, her tenacity, and for doing what had to be done always. Now everyone can see her as he saw her.

 

It is bittersweet for Steve to hear military men who had decried the deep involvement of women in the war effort to come out and praise her for her selfless actions, her unfailing bravery. Still more take the opportunity to take some subtle -- and not so subtle -- jabs at Steve over his lack of presence. Steve doesn't listen to them. Peggy knew her value and wouldn'tve sought their approval, so neither does he. He did what he had to do, and the proof that, while Peggy was still lost, he still accomplished _something_ in that time, sits on their couch and teases him about his terrible taste in shirts.

 

It's enough. It has to be.

 

The Smithsonian starts making noise about some sort of special WWII exhibit honouring troops, with a special focus on Peggy Carter. Steve approves, but representatives of the institute track him down to seek input on what they do. As the press corps pick up on the story about the exhibit -- Steve refuses to use the word 'memorial' -- suddenly he has journalists from the NY Times digging around to try and interview him.

 

Given his status as an active agent and occasional covert operative, it makes his job slightly more difficult. He talks to Bucky, and they end up moving from New York to D.C. to throw off the vultures a little. It helps that S.H.I.E.L.D. has already set up a large office in the nation's capital. Bucky's family aren't happy about it, but Bucky convinces them it'll only be for a little while, just until the New York scrutiny of Steve -- and to a lesser extent, Bucky -- dies down.

 

Steve works, and he comes home. He goes on operations, sometimes with Bucky and sometimes without him, but always feeling better when Agent Barnes is backing him up. Bucky becomes a constant in his life that Steve never expected to have.

 

Steve is the only person now -- apart from Howard Stark and a few doctors -- that ever sees Bucky without his prosthesis. He never leaves their home without it, although is comfortable enough in Steve's presence to allow himself to be vulnerable if he's sore, or just tired of wearing it.

 

In those moments at home, their lives are simple, and almost quiet. Steve never had a best friend before Bucky, never even had anyone remotely close, apart from his mother. He imagines that Sarah Rogers and Bucky would've gotten along well.

 

In the interests of seeing Peggy getting her due, as well as honouring the Commandos' war effort, Steve finally agrees to meet with a Smithsonian historian for a series of taped interviews, spanning subjects such as meeting Peggy for the first time, Steve's tenure as Captain America on the USO circuit, to Bucky's first rescue and the genesis of the Howling Commandos. Some details of Project Rebirth have been released, and most people who've read a paper in the last year know that Captain America wasn't always six foot two.

 

The historian asking the questions -- a Mr Hubert Arnold -- is a young man in his twenties, with horn-rimmed glasses and a tweed waistcoat and blazer combination. He would've been a child when Steve and Bucky were at war, and Steve's not sure what to feel about that.

 

It's to take place in their home under the stipulations that any question can be vetoed, and the location is to remain entirely confidential. While some might've seen it as an intrusion on their private space, to Steve, he feels he has the home field advantage.

 

And Bucky, while personable and charming as ever, has more than a few weapons stashed about, and an ever-present willingness to use them. Steve shouldn't feel comforted by this, but he does.

 

By unspoken agreement, Bucky and Steve do the interviews together, Bucky sitting on Steve's right so the metal arm is half-covered between them. Arnold is over the moon to snag the Captain and his good Sergeant in the one fell swoop, though he does wonder whether one might coach the other on more sensitive topics, and above all else, he is wanting accuracy for posterity's sake.

 

But there is never any coaching, merely support. Still, eight years on, Bucky's face pales when reminded of Kreischberg. It seems Arnold is aware that Bucky was sequestered somewhere else when Steve rescued him, but a press for details is met with Steve's command voice saying 'that's enough' and Bucky excusing himself for five minutes, needing a drink of water. Arnold has interviewed other POWs, and lets it go, despite chafing to prod further.

 

Captain America's aura of strength and command hasn't dissipated in the six years he's been absent from the Army.

 

In turn, Bucky offers support when the subject invariably turns to Peggy. It's as brutal as Steve expects it to be, and yet at the same time, he's blindsided by how much it still hurts.

 

It takes him a while to spring back emotionally from the interviews. His nightmares are particularly vivid for weeks afterwards, but Bucky is there to help.

Steve finds it difficult to maintain personal relationships; his work is fine, and his (Bucky's) family is always good -- now that Mrs Barnes has stopped trying to marry Rebecca off to Steve, who has a fiancé of her own -- but Steve doesn't feel the drive to meet someone else. He's a bit of a mess, and can't imagine anyone being able to deal with him.

 

Bucky is his only constant, his compass, the only person in the world he doesn't tire of, even when they're arguing with each other. It's achingly familiar and takes him back to mud and trenches, but this time, in a good way (if that's possible).

 

Bucky tells him to his face when he's being an asshole, Steve will bodily block the door when Bucky's pushing himself to go on a mission when he's clearly exhausted. Stark's technological marvel is... _marvellous_ , but it's taxing on Bucky's body and he needs more rest between missions than he used to.

 

Dum Dum retires from S.H.I.E.L.D. first, followed by Morita. They are tired of fighting, and want to be with their families. Every year, Steve and Bucky meet up with the remaining Howling Commandos. They share raucous stories or they sit quietly and drink, and keep that connection alive. Dernier's first grandchild is named 'Etienne', which is French for 'Steven'. Bucky never lets Steve forget it.

 

There is war and peace, weddings and funerals, victories and failures. And sometime in the mid sixties, Steve wakes up to find Bucky already alert and looking tired.

 

"I don't want to be out in the field anymore," he admits. Bucky's well over forty now, but somehow passes for just under thirty. If not for the deepening lines around his eyes, he wouldn't give anything away.

 

Steve is in the same boat, the serum giving him a youthful glow that still has the new S.H.I.E.L.D. telephone operators that are barely twenty swooning over him. Nothing gives away Steve's age except for the look in his eyes; it's harder and sadder than it used to be.

 

Steve pushes a lock of hair off Bucky's forehead. "So don't be."

 

Bucky talks to Stark, and a few other S.H.I.E.L.D. notable persons for a few weeks, and then a decision is made.

 

James Buchanan Barnes, Former US Army Sergeant, and second in command of the elite squad Howling Commandos, becomes the Director of S.H.I.E.L.D. when Howard Stark steps aside to take on a more advisory role. Stark cites how Agent Barnes has overcome adversity and spent years in S.H.I.E.L.D., building on a decorated service record where he excelled in managing people as more than enough experience to take on the top job.

 

When Bucky assumes the mantle of Director, Steve takes a good look at his team. When he realises he is a quarter of a century older than most of the men and women involved, he retires from active duty, slipping down to an advisory role as well.

 

Bucky relocates the main S.H.I.E.L.D. offices back to New York, and on Bucky's Director's salary, they move into a very nice apartment in Manhattan. There is never a question that they would still live together, though Steve wonders why Bucky hasn't found a nice girl to settle down with, his own struggles with partnering up notwithstanding.

 

It takes Steve a while to realise Bucky hasn't been with anyone but him for at least five years. He wonders if he's acting as an unwitting roadblock, however unintentional, but Bucky's never hinted at it.

 

Bucky remains Director for just over ten years, before passing the reigns onto a young, but experienced agent by the name of Fury. He is stern, but whip-smart. Bucky chooses him personally -- race politics be damned -- before joining Steve in his advisory capacity.

 

Steve spent the stretch of intervening years volunteering at charities, or hospitals, now that money wasn't an issue. Otherwise he spent much of his time quietly reading or painting, only being called in for absolute emergencies. When Bucky joins him, he also finds he needs something to take up spare time. S.H.I.E.L.D. pays them both decent enough pensions from their former jobs to remain in the lifestyle they've become accustomed to.

 

Bucky's natural talent for mathematics and machinery take him to the newly-obnoxious Stark Industries tower more often than not, where he ends up spending a lot of time with Howard's young son, Anthony. Anthony is already proving to be challenging in a way that Bucky thinks he might outstrip the vast talent of his father. Steve never goes with him, even after years, and Howard marrying a perfectly lovely woman, the relationship is still difficult. Steve never forgets the guilt and barbed words levelled at him in the early days of S.H.I.E.L.D.

 

Steve meets young Anthony a few times, only ever somewhere outside the Tower. He's a nice enough kid, a little hard to follow when he goes off on a tangent, but harmless. He amuses the hell out of Bucky a lot. Steve watches them interact sometimes and wonder if this is what Bucky as a father would look like.

 

The pull of Brooklyn is strong, and Steve begins to feel nostalgic in his old age. Without too much discussion at all, they pull stumps and move back to the old neighbourhood.

 

It's nice to be near Rebecca and Victoria and Abigail again, especially now that the elder Barnes' have passed away. Rebecca has two sons, Victoria a son and daughter. Abigail has married, but is unable to have children and settles on being a doting Aunt. Bucky is made godfather of one of Becca's sons, Steve godfather to Victoria's daughter, appropriately named 'Stephanie'. It's a proud moment for Steve, whose thoughts on having a family of his own have never really gotten off the ground.

 

He calls Bucky's nieces and nephews his own, too, and he'd protect them with everything he had if needs be.

 

Becca's hair is shot through with grey, yet Bucky's is only touched by the barest hint of silver at the temples. They both marvel at Steve, who passes for a man in his mid thirties, still fit and young and beautiful. Becca reminisces fondly and makes light of their mother's attempts at setting her and Steve up. She sighs dramatically and tells Bucky it was never going to work, because she is the 'wrong Barnes'.

 

It sends Bucky very quiet, and he goes home shortly after that.

 

Steve is painting next to the window, frowning and chewing on his lip. The years of practical retirement have softened the harder edges that S.H.I.E.L.D. had sharpened. He feels an up swell of affection for the man who has saved him so many times, who has lost so much but still refuses to be beaten down entirely. Who has become more than a best friend, more than a brother-in-arms. He has become the person Bucky can't face the modern world without.

 

Steve looks up as he enters, and Bucky means to let him know that Becca knows about them, that it didn't seem to be a problem but they should be careful anyway. He trusts his sister but he's not as trusting about the rest of the world. Privacy has always been the cornerstone of their relationship. Secrecy in more dangerous times, of course, but what they mean to each other has _never_ been anyone's business but their own.

 

Instead, he stands in the middle of the room, flesh arm cradling the forty-second iteration of the metal arm -- as designed by Stark Jnr -- and says: "I love you."

 

A complicated array of emotions flicker across Steve's face before he settles on fondness. "I know," he replies softly.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is it for the main story, the last part to come is an extrapolation of a scene from this second part. I hope you stick around for it.
> 
> If you have any thoughts or comments, holy shit, you'd be making me so happy if you had the time to leave me one. Thanks so much for getting this far. 
> 
> (and curse you, Maskelyne. one more time!)
> 
> * I liked the idea that Steve was no longer universally hailed as a hero because he wasn't there for the last takedown. It's a blemish on his career and one which the government is wanting to sweep under the rug quite quickly. 
> 
> * I think Howard did have a bit of a thing for Peggy, and he carried that grudge. Later in life i think he would've been easier on Steve because hell, it wasn't actually Steve's fault, but Steve had been burnt by him one too many times to give him a chance to apologise. He avoids him at all costs. Unfortunately this does give him a bit of a roadblock as to getting to know young Anthony well. 
> 
> * To me a modern Smithsonian exhibit of Peggy would look very similar to Steve's current one. The Commandos have a good part in it, but Steve's relegated to more of a sideline character (with regards to the exhibit), as opposed to being its main focus.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Transcript of recorded interview #3 between Agent Steven G. Rogers, Agent James B. Barnes and Hubert Arnold, MA of History (American University), April 25th, 1953.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys, welcome back to this story :)
> 
> Thank you forever for helping with this Sarah. What the hell would I do without you?
> 
> This isn't so much as a continuation from where the last chapter left off, as it is a scene that for reasons of pacing, couldn't make it into chapter 2. You will see why as you read it. There's more notes at the end, and I'm sorry in advance <3

**Transcript of recorded interview #3 between Agent Steven G. Rogers, Agent James B. Barnes and Hubert Arnold, MA of History (American University), April 25th, 1953.**

**Interview commences 10.12am, at Rogers' and Barnes' shared private residence, [ADDRESS REDACTED].**

**[Barnes and Rogers sit on a sofa, shoulder to shoulder. Rogers has hands clasped loosely between his knees, Barnes stretches his right arm out comfortably on the back of the sofa, left hidden between them]**

>> ARNOLD: All right, Captain, Sergeant, good morning.

 

[Rogers and Barnes laugh]

 

>> BARNES: Not anymore.

 

>> ARNOLD: [chuckle] I keep doing that, don't I?

 

[Rogers smiles, waves hand]

 

>> ROGERS: It's fine. Good morning.

 

>> ARNOLD: Thank you for sitting down with me again.

 

>> BARNES: Happy to help.

 

>> ARNOLD: We spoke a great deal yesterday about the SSR, the early days of SHIELD... today I'd like to move on to--

 

>> ROGERS: Peggy Carter? [Rogers smiles politely]

 

>> ARNOLD: Yes... yes. What were your first impressions of her?

 

[Rogers sits back, eyes dropping]

 

>> ROGERS: First impressions... She socked a guy who mouthed off at her in parade.

 

[Rogers laughs, Barnes shakes his head]

 

>> ROGERS: She was strong, and confident, and capable. Every single soldier's eyes snapped to her whenever she entered a room. Not just because she was the most beautiful person in it, but because she was, by far, the most competent.

 

>> BARNES: I didn't meet her until after-- [Barnes coughs] Until I got back to Italy, and my impressions were the largely the same.

 

>> ARNOLD: In such a sphere dominated by men, was it strange to serve with a woman?

 

>> ROGERS: You talk like she wasn't worth ten of us.

 

>> ARNOLD: Is that your opinion?   
  
>> ROGERS: It's a fact.

 

[Barnes leans forward, pushing Rogers back into the sofa slightly]

 

>> BARNES: You know Fred and Ginger, Hubert?

 

>> ARNOLD: Of course.  
  
>> BARNES: Everyone looks to ol' Fred as being the powerhouse of the two. Everyone tends to forget that Ginger had to do everything Fred did, only backwards and in high heels.

 

>> ARNOLD: Meaning?

 

>> ROGERS: No-one would have ever accepted Pe- Agent Carter's role if she were just a good soldier, or even a great soldier. She couldn't just-- she couldn't just be the _best_ , she had to _exceed_ the best for them to take her even _half-way_ seriously. [Rogers looks thoughtful] I suppose she could've just settled for being a WAC, but Peggy wasn't made for ordinary. She fought tooth and nail to play ball with the guys, when just about all of them didn't even want her to be on the field, much less part of the game.

 

>> ARNOLD: So she had to work twice as hard for half the recognition?

 

>> BARNES: Even then, I'm sure she was laughed out of more war rooms and told to make tea than she was let in.

 

[Barnes turns to Rogers]

 

>> BARNES: [undertone] Sisyphus.

 

[Rogers nods]

 

>> ARNOLD: I have spoken to a [papers rustle] General Chester Phillips, who had nothing but glowing reports about her.

 

[Rogers shakes his head slightly]

 

>> ROGERS: Last time I spoke to him he was still a Colonel. [pause] Sometimes I think it's easy for people to absolve themselves of their behaviour by speaking well of-- of those departed. General Phillips was -- and is -- a good man, and a good commanding officer. But he was hard on her. Harder on her than her male counterparts.

 

>> ARNOLD: Does that include you?

 

[Rogers pauses]

 

>> ROGERS: I know for a fact that there were multiple occasions where Phillips wanted to wring my neck... but yes, it does. There were times when Peggy would offer solutions to outlandish situations, and his first impulse seemed dismissive, rather than receptive.

 

>> ARNOLD: So it's your opinion that she was largely underestimated.

 

>> ROGERS: It happened to her on an almost daily basis. [pause] I know a little something about appearing weak, and being written off.

 

>> ARNOLD: Of course, before the serum. This does bring me to Project Rebirth.

 

>> BARNES: You can leave me out of this part, I was in a muddy trench in Europe, and we'd never met. [Gestures to Rogers]

 

>> ARNOLD: Of course, Agent Barnes... So, Agent Rogers, the original intention was to create an entire army of super soldiers.

 

>> ROGERS: That was the intent. When that was no longer feasible... I tried to make up for the discrepancy as best I could.

 

[Barnes snorts]

 

>> ARNOLD: Did Agent Carter have much, if anything, to do with your selection?

 

>> ROGERS: To the best of my knowledge, no. She was around for the arduous selection process, recording results and presumably, forming her own opinions. I _know_ I wasn't Phillips' first choice, but I was Erskine's. From subsequent conversations, I believe Peggy sided with the doctor.

 

>> ARNOLD: Many of hers -- and your -- exploits are still classified.

 

>> ROGERS: That's true, though I can't say I mind on a personal front. Not every hero gets a parade, and I know she wouldn't expect one. I mean, _I_ didn't want one. She did so many amazing things without the benefit of a serum. Some historians or journalists I've spoken to in the past were under the false impression she was riding on my coattails to greatness, but she was extraordinary long before I entered the picture. In some ways, Captain America couldn't have existed without an example like Agent Carter to follow, only she hasn't gotten the pomp and ceremony. [pause] It doesn't change the fact that it's no less than what she deserves.

 

>> ARNOLD: And did Peggy Carter have an affect on you personally, Agent Barnes?

 

>> BARNES: How d'you mean?

 

>> ARNOLD: I mean, it must've been a remarkable experience to work with her, especially as parts of her story now come to light.

 

>> BARNES: First of all, it should probably be a matter of public record that when I did first meet her, I thought she was a shrewish, ice queen.

 

>> ROGERS: [affronted] Buck!

 

>> BARNES: Settle down. I say that because when I got to know her, nothing could've been further from the truth.

 

[Rogers relaxes]

 

>> BARNES: In the Army, you have to have a certain amount of detachment, otherwise you'll probably blow your own brains out. She balanced that detachment with a... a warmth, and a clarity of purpose, a belief in others that helped us all.

 

[Rogers nods]

 

>> ARNOLD: Am I to understand you worked on a number of missions, just the two of you, during various times in '44 and '45? [papers rustle] I see your names together on some documents, but the details are still in sealed records.

 

>> BARNES: [smiles fondly] She needed a partner for a few covert operations, and not only was this one [gestures to Rogers] too conspicuous, but he couldn't lie his way out of a paper bag. I was the lucky one.

 

>> ARNOLD: Were you assigned or chosen?

 

>> BARNES: To be honest, I think I was the best of a bad bunch. [laughs]

 

>> ROGERS: [undertone] No.

 

>> BARNES: [to Rogers] Shhh. [to Arnold] We went on a few operations together. The boys from the 107th were as solid as they come, but after-- after '43, I don't think I ever trusted anyone to watch my back, save for the Howlies... and her.

 

>> ARNOLD: Can you tell me anything about what you did?

 

>> BARNES: If the records are still sealed, probably not. I'm sure the Army would find a way to still have me court-martialled and fired out of a canon, even though I've been discharged for eight years.

 

>> ARNOLD: It doesn't have to detail any military action... perhaps just an anecdote?

 

[Barnes pauses, tapping his right thumb on his lips]

 

>> BARNES: First op we ever went on was to Paris. Even occupied... it was the most beautiful place I'd seen in a couple of years. Anyone who says spy work is glamorous, they're lying. Turned out to be a lot like the Army; all 'hurry up and wait'. And there were days where we had nothing to do but blend in.

 

Carter took me into the heart of Paris. I'd never been anywhere, never seen anything but Brooklyn until Basic. And she was... [Barnes shakes his head and whistles] she was all class. Speaking French, charming the locals, setting up the perfect cover story.

 

>> ARNOLD: It sounds like quite the romantic scenario. I was under the impression that Agent Carter and Agent Rogers were--

 

>> BARNES: I can't say I've had the moral high ground every single moment of my life, but I ain't never cut anyone else's lunch, least of all my best friend's.

 

>> ARNOLD: I see... Agent Rogers, would you care to clarify your relationship at all with Agent Carter, for the record?

 

>> ROGERS: [small smile] No.

 

[pause]

 

>> BARNES: [smiles and glances to Rogers] You're side-tracking me, Hubert. Anyway, I remember I'd promised my sisters beautiful things -- you know, underthings -- from Paris, but when in foxholes in Italy, I kind of doubted I'd ever be able to keep my word. While we were there, I took the opportunity to ask her if she'd help me. Kind of expected that she'd think I was putting the moves on her, and she'd sock me square in the jaw. But I told her why, I started talking about my sisters... and she agreed.

 

[Rogers watches Barnes and shifts in his seat, visibly moved]

 

So I took the classiest dame I'd ever met into occupied France, swarming with Nazis, and got her to help me choose lingerie for my sisters. [laughs softly] I couldn't spin you a better story if I tried. [shrugs] Needless to say, I was very popular back home after that parcel arrived. My ma wanted to meet her, and my sisters wanted to _be_ her. And if they grow to be even _half_ the woman she was-- [Barnes stops, and Rogers looks at the floor]

 

>> ARNOLD: You both still seemed touched by her death.

 

[long pause]

 

>> BARNES: I don't think she's a lady you can just get over quickly. [looks to Rogers, who nods but remains silent. Barnes sighs] Yeah, not her.

 

>> ARNOLD: And on that -- admittedly sensitive -- topic, I did want to touch on _The Valkyrie_ , seeing as the circumstances of the Red Skull's plans have been declassified.

 

[Rogers sits up, visibly shaken]

 

>> BARNES: What do you want to know?

 

>> ARNOLD: You were both absent for this operation--

 

>> ROGERS: [abrupt] Agent Barnes had been lost in the Alps on the Austro-Italian border in the operation to recover Arnim Zola. I believed -- with good reason -- that he was still alive. Time was of the essence to find him. The orders for the final push were received based on information Zola gave the SSR while I was recovering Bucky, and not before I left.

 

>> ARNOLD: [to Barnes] Is that correct?

 

>> BARNES: I was broken and in a HYDRA-run lab in the Alps, I'm afraid I can't answer that one for you.

 

>> ARNOLD: I see... but not all of the Howling Commandos went on this rescue mission, did they?

 

>> ROGERS: No. Dugan and Morita stayed behind, and they assisted Agent Carter.

 

>> ARNOLD: Was she aware of your plans at this time?

 

>> ROGERS: No. I... She didn't know what I planned.

 

>> ARNOLD: And am I to understand this recovery operation was unauthorised by the SSR?

 

>> ROGERS: [pause] Yes.

 

>> ARNOLD: I'm sorry, I'm getting slightly off-topic once again... [papers rustling] The report from the _authorised_ mission to the Red Skull's base says there were two minutes forty-eight seconds of radio contact between _The Valkyrie_ and the SSR-occupied control tower.

 

>> ROGERS: [looks to Barnes briefly] Yes.

 

>> ARNOLD: According to my information, your fellow soldiers James Morita and Timothy Dugan were the last men to exchange words with her in that time.

 

>> ROGERS: They were. [Rogers is stiff and pale]

 

>> ARNOLD: There is an audio recording of the conversation that is still sealed, as is the transcript... The report states that one minute twelve seconds of that recording discusses the scenario and the options for the aircraft, of which there were none. [Rogers fists clench on his knees] The remaining one minute thirty-six seconds are just described in the report as-- [papers rustle] --of a personal nature. Are you aware of the contents of that conversation?

 

[Rogers stares at a spot on the other side of the room, Barnes watches Rogers]

 

>> ROGERS: [pause] I spoke to Dum-Dum and Jim... they told me. Much later, I-- I heard the tape.

 

>> ARNOLD: Could you tell me what she said?

 

[Rogers shakes his head slowly, before buckling forward, hands to his face. Barnes immediately rises and curves over him, before getting up, hand outstretched to block the camera]

 

>> BARNES: Okay, okay, that's enough. We're done for the day. He's done. He's done.

 

>> ARNOLD: I'm sor--

**Interview suspended at 10.25am**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> omg notes. 
> 
> * Cause & Effect has been a bit of a fun experiment for me, and the 3 chapters have represented something different. The first chapter's format was jumping between past and present, which was new for me. The second chapter spanned an extra long time period, which was also new. Now this third chapter is done transcript-style. I have taken a few liberties with the nature of the transcript, and merged it a little with a script for say, a movie or play, just because I didn't want to rely purely on the dialogue, and wanted to give you, the reader, some visual cues as to what was going on as well. 
> 
> * If you have enjoyed this story and its predecessor, you'll be happy to know that I was inspired to continue Cause & Effect's particular timeline, bringing it into the modern MCU. I'm nearly finished writing it, so please do subscribe to the series if you'd like to know when it's ready! 
> 
> * If you remember the snippet of interview with Peggy that Steve watched in the Smithsonian, this is from the extended scene that was filmed with Hayley Atwell. I've never seen it anywhere but tumblr, I believe it was part of the phase 2 box set? But don't quote me. Anyhow, the first time I saw it, I cried a LOT. Hayley Atwell is simply amazing in it, and I wish there'd been more of it in the movie. 
> 
> I used it heavily as a framework for this chapter, so if you do happen to watch it, you'll hear a little repetition. But I definitely changed parts to suit the story, as well as Steve and Bucky. 
> 
> http://eatingcroutons.tumblr.com/post/138855141640/peggy-carters-1951-1953-interview-part-of-which
> 
> * Bucky and Steve have known each other for 10 years at the time of this interview. 
> 
> * This is a love letter to Steve's devotion to Peggy. I adore Peggy, and I am pretty sure this is terribly obvious in this. 
> 
> * cutting someone else's lunch is slang for a guy stealing another guy's girl. It's a little old-fashioned, definitely has been used in Australia. I tried to find the origin of the phrase, I know Sarah had heard it before, which led me to believe it wasn't necessarily Australian only. BUT I just don't know! If you know of a more American idiom, please leave it in the comments, and I'd gladly replace it! Either way, I feel like the phrase might still be understood because of its context. I hope so, at any rate. 
> 
> * You may've noticed I stole a rather famous quote. What Bucky says about Ginger Rogers doing everything Astaire did, only 'backwards and in high heels' is attributed to the cartoonist Bob Thaves, as it appeared in his comic 'Frank and Earnest', in the 80's. It's become quite famous, and Rogers' memoir even ended up being called 'Backwards And In High Heels'. Given Bucky's love of dance, and in particular, this Bucky's journey with Peggy in this story, it felt like something that he would've said.
> 
> * Arnold doesn't mean to be callous or hurtful, but he's just slightly more interested in getting to the heart of the story than he is worried about trodding on feelings. It's not intentional, just a bit obtuse. 
> 
> * Steve and Bucky did do another interview to make up for cutting this particular one short, but Bucky takes Arnold aside and with an intimidatingly sharklike smile tells the historian that anything surrounding Peggy's death is off the table, and they're using their full privilege to veto any discussion. The official reports provide plenty of information, and he can always call Dugan or Morita if he wants further info from the control room, but he's not getting it from Steve. 
> 
> * Incidentally, Bucky also calls ahead and talks to Dugan and Morita, and explain that Arnold might contact them, and tell them the situation. The Howlies understand exactly what's going on. So if Arnold contacts them, they will give general info, but they are going to preserve Peggy and Steve's privacy, and not say anything about the radio call. Because they're good bros. 
> 
> * Thank you so much for reading. If you're so inclined, I'd love to hear from you. Much love, stucky fans.

**Author's Note:**

> The fall-out is coming next. If you have any thoughts or comments on this, and you chose to leave a comment? You TOO are a rock-star, and I would appreciate your feedback. 
> 
> These notes are in no particular order. 
> 
> * This part is in the format of the previous fic, in that it's 3rd person limited to Steve's POV. The next part will depart from that to 3rd person omniscient, to allow for points of view from multiple characters. 
> 
> * Bucky calls himself a 'gravel agitator' - WWII slang for 'infantryman'. 
> 
> * In a discussion with my friend Cynthia, she said something to me that I've often thought, which is crashing the plane was pretty dramatic. But that's kind of Steve... he IS a little dramatic. We both feel like Peggy would've at least tried something else, or attempted to land the plane properly. It's just that fate wasn't on her side and it didn't end up working out anyway. Poor Peggy :(
> 
> * I couldn't find too much solid evidence for where exactly everything was set in the final scenes... the movie says Schmidt's base was in the alps, but the alps cover a lot of area and go through quite a few countries. I feel like the SSR base they would've been based out of would've probably been in London, but for location purposes in this story, I kept the base from which that final push was started in Italy. By 1945 Italy was back in the hands of the allies. 
> 
> * also, Italy gave me a really good geographical location for the events of this fic. 
> 
> * I have played SO hard and fast with some times and distances in this fic, just to suit the narrative. I've done research where applicable, but it's not wholly accurate. So... don't take travel times as gospel. Just go with me from a fictional standpoint. 
> 
> * While many people write Morita as a medic for the Howling Commandos, I personally couldn't find any corroborating evidence to support this in the Marvel Wiki. Out of all the commandos, he's actually given the specific job of 'communications', and of course he's in the control tower when the Valkyrie is going down. It would make sense for one of the HCs to be a medic, though, especially if they're on their own a lot, but there's not anything to support this that I've found. 
> 
> * Brenner Pass is a little area on the border of Italy and Austria. It's one of the principal passes on the range, and one of the lowest alpine passes in the area. It made sense to me for Bucky to fall somewhere here, where there is a plausible reason for him to survive the fall. 
> 
> * Also, having them chasing Zola on his way to Schmidt's base, this is directly on the way to Bavaria, which is in the far south of Germany. Basically, if you're looking north, it goes Italy, then there's a skinny bit of Austrian land that pokes between Italy and Germany, then Germany. They are plausible distances and directions for which there to be travel/bases. 
> 
> * Even though things played out differently, I couldn't not give Steve and Peggy their kiss. 
> 
> * I cried writing this, especially during the hospital ward scene.


End file.
